//------------------------------//
// Thirst 
// Story: What Makes the World the World 
// by IfOnlyICouldDeactivate 
//------------------------------//

Thirst

It was as if the world was slowly pressing down harder and harder against my body. I struggle to drag hoof after hoof forward in a desperate attempt to find water. The dry air seems to suck the remaining droplets of water from my body, as even my sweat begins to dry up.

I pant, my hoarse throat groaning in displeasure at the sensation. Hot air fills my lungs with each desperate pant, and my hooves wince at the dagger-like sharpness of the scalding sand beneath them; my legs ache from what felt like an eternity of endless wandering through this blasted desert with no end
.
Water. The one thing this Celestia-damned place doesn’t have. I pause only for breath, before resuming my foray onwards. Water. This damn desert, this damn relic, why did I ever come here? I stomp my front hoof in frustration and my grayscale mane falls in front of my eyes. I sigh and brush it back, before reaching around to clasp my canteen in my mouth. I tilt it upwards, trying to milk it of whatever non-existent moisture remains lurking in the deep bowels of the canteen. Nothing. No water. Just cool air, and an everlasting thirst.