These sands were torturous. No matter which way he went, the young frontiersman never felt like himself. The cowboy from southern Wyoming just couldn’t shake away the thoughts that clouded his mind. He stood blithe over lush plains, in the middle of a wide open field; about as wide as a battlefield. Only no soldiers to spill blood.
“Why?” he questioned, “Why am I still here... in this barren land with just my lonesome self?” This was a matter he begged the world to answer for him.
From town to town, the loner cowboy traveled from hither and yon, and for what? To see the world? To help those in need? No. He wanted to be one with humanity, in this fiery hellhole of a world. Life has been all but merciful, and he had to endure the dreaded demons that plagued his soul, as they spread their deceit of dying alone. With no one to befriend, no one to be with till the end.
And no one to lend a tender embrace.
***
I closed the the front cover of the novel. Its powerful literature left me astonished as I laid the book on the night stand.
"Wow." I muttered. "Quite the story, I think I'll read more of it tomorrow."
I adjusted my recline on the bed frame, and sighed through my nostrils. The back of my head rested on the frame’s wooden surface as I sat there almost relaxed. It had been a long day of managing various errands, leaving me tired and sore in all muscle groups. Now I plainly lied on my bed thinking about the cowboy's ballad. Recently, I've been working like a beaver in the back parts of Chama. The work days were tough, but the pay was decent. Obviously, not enough to get me out of this hick town, but it was good enough for the essentials.
Several minutes went by that night and I was quickly becoming bored. Nothing left to do other than to just rest. I glanced at my alarm on the nightstand to my right; 10:15, almost 45 minutes until 11:00. Not too late in my book, but still. Besides, I had more work to do tomorrow and since it was getting late, it would've been best just to sleep for now in order to awake properly.
I was about to prepare for bed when my boss called for me.
"Ike! Git down here!" he shouted in a slightly strong Texas drawl. In my time working for that guy, the shrill bark of his voice was still intimidating on my behalf. Including his accent, for it was more than enough to send shivers up my spine.
As if by reflex, I hopped off my bed. “Coming Charlie!” I shouted from the second floor, as I fumbled towards the hallway. But before I made haste, I stopped by my mirror on the bedroom door to make sure I was presentable. My smooth brown hair wasn't too shabby so that was one benefit. The complexion didn't pause me either; some would say flawless skin goes a long way. Thank God my acne finally ceased. Everything facially checked out but the attire I wore was more rugged with just a plain white t-shirt and worn out jeans. A noticeable tear presented itself to me in the reflection around the lower half of my left pant leg. That was a first day I will never forget, and neither will the horse.
I nodded with approval at my reflection and ran downstairs to meet Charlie, sitting on the sofa in front of the cold empty fireplace. He was sitting on a two-seat couch with his eyes glued to the TV on top of the mantle. I wasn’t sure what he was watching and frankly I paid no mind. Something about the news I believe was showing, with yet another shooting and/or political scandal to wring this sympathetic sponge dry. Ah, America.
I approached the man. He was sporting a grimy Budweiser t-shirt still coated in dust, while outfitted with blue skinny jeans and light brown cowboy boots. His facial features consisted of a dark-brown, rugged beard to match his messy, almost greyish hair. He just reeked of redneck.
When I appeared in the room, he turned to me with the side of his face glowing against the light of the television.
"Howdy Ike," he said, almost nonchalant. "Can y'all do me a favor and check on the horses out back? Just wanna make sure they're fed before ya hit the hay."
“I thought I fed them this morning, Charlie.” I replied slightly confused.
He turned away from me. “Well, go feed ‘em again. Unless you want me to dock your pay down to a penny’s worth.” He might not know it, but to me his tone hammered hard on my self-esteem.
I opened my mouth for a moment but kept my trap shut in front of him, cooling down my growing anger. “Yes sir,” I said. Charlie never took his eyes off the TV.
Quite the charming type isn’t he?
I never liked that crusty old bastard anyway, not since I started working here. For a cattle rancher coming from West Texas, he was more like your run-of-the-mill old man who forced you to work after breaking one of his windows. He would even complain about my inadequate skills as a cowboy. I don’t blame him on that one, seeing as I was just an art student who never got the chance to graduate.
Discouraged enough to make me march back to bed, I forced myself to comply as I grabbed my jacket on the coat rack, glancing at Charlie as I gave him the finger behind his back. It felt purposeless, so I just brushed him off and made my way to the front door. Let’s hope he felt it slam shut.
It was still dark outside. I could hear crickets chirping and the wolves howling in the distance soothed my ears. The air was still warm due to the summer heat, but it was reasonably manageable. I was still tired from my desperation for sleep, but my senses were rejuvenated by the summer night’s warm, clean air, encouraging me to commence with my chore. Not exactly sure as to why I felt so content in weather conditions like this. Maybe it was the only time of the year where it wasn’t bitterly cold. Christ, those were some awful winters!
I soon found myself walking across the back yard; in the middle of scenic nowhere if I might add. New Mexico isn’t exactly the Maryland of the Southwest. Many towns are spread too far, dotting the regions with mere specks of civilization in a sea of dry sand to the south, and dense forests to the north.
It wasn’t perfect, but it had its own benefits. The mountains encompassed the valley of which the ranch sits within. Neither was it totally pitch black, at least enough to barely see the trees on the side of the mountains, as well as the weeds near the house. A rusted 1950’s Ford sat decaying just a few yards away, nearly being swallowed whole by the pesky plants. A few managed to crawl up from underneath the Ford and sprouted themselves from the hoodless engine. Boy, Charlie should really clean up this place.
But of course he won’t.
Not far from the back door, the barn slept cozily under the well lit full moon. Light peeked from the semi-opened doors. The loft was also exposed, with a little bit of moonlight casting shadows inside. I made my way to the light and opened the doors slightly before countering the blue light on my back with bright lamps on my front.
A wave of petrified horse manure unleashed itself as soon as those double wooden doors opened. I didn’t bother to cringe my nose, however. Working with livestock for a living tends to leave an immunity, or in my case, destroyed nostrils to where you can’t smell anything.
Instead, I adjusted my eyes to the dim lamp hanging just above the center of the barn. Rows of stalls sat parallel from each other, like I just walked into a livestock judging at the local state fair.
Tired. I was so tired, eager to just finish the task at hand and climb to bed. Sighing heavily, I proceeded inside. As I strolled right beside each horse in their designated stall, I studied halfheartedly at each trough that passed. All were filled with enough hay and water to make it through the night. I guess someone else took care of everything already before I got here.
Well, maybe not everything. Stopping directly in front of a lone quarter horse at the far corner of the barn, I glanced under the creature to notice his trough was empty.
Such laziness. I stood there with a bemused expression, shaking my head slightly. Soft snorting sounds, close enough to be audible, pulled my attention as I looked up to see the horse towering above my head by a foot. The horse leaned his head over the wooden divider, breathing softly against my chest. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey Cletus,” I spoke to the horse as I softly petted his muzzle. Some muscles tensed for a split second, but they eventually ceased as I repeatedly stroked. “How are you doing, buddy? You hungry? Did that ass-wad, Charlie, not give you enough nutrients to grow big and strong?” The tone in my voice began to switch to simple baby talk. Might’ve been demeaning to the horse, but what do I know? It’s not like Cletus can read old English scriptures with his monocle gawking pretentiously.
I nearly made myself laugh at the thought.
Looking down at the trough again, I walked over to the empty stall across from Cletus, where we keep the bales of hay. Charlie didn’t want to make a big fuss over storage space, so he had to make tough decisions and sell the horse who last occupied it. Once I chucked a bale in Cletus’ stall, I grabbed a bucket and filled it with clean water from the hose outside, then poured it all into the trough.
"There you go, Cletus," I said to the horse, who just stood there as I just kept talking. "Now eat slowly this time, I don't want you all hungry again tonight." I chuckled at those words. No response aside from the oblivious craning of the horse’s neck to take his first bite out of the hay I just poured.
“Ooookay, then...” I mumbled.
Finally, my task was done. It wasn’t as strenuous as I had misleadingly complained over, but I just wish Charlie would’ve asked nicely without making me want to burn down his estate. But that’s probably best saved for another day, if I can comply with my bitter instinct.
I sighed with mild relief, knowing all the livestock is taken care of, thus I can finally turn in for the night.
And yet, I didn’t.
The open loft in the back of the barn caught my attention as I inspected the place for more empty troughs. The second floor had two open windows; one in the front and one in the back. However, I liked the back window better, I always have.
It wasn’t that late, and feeding Cletus probably shaved a few minutes to where it must’ve been 10:30. My tired mind begged for rest, but my body had a better alternative. I made my way to one of the ladders built along the edge of the loft and started climbing. Barely peeking over the suspended wooden floor, I saw a large, but raggedly old, saddle blanket spread out in front of the window, illuminated under the full moon. It was mostly worn out with old striped patterns decoratively outlined, nearly faded and concealing a few tears. A clutter of straw was sprinkled across it, possibly from several nights of sitting.+
It’s shabby appearance didn’t faze me at the slightest however. I stepped foot onto the loft and just lazily sat on a snug spot crossed legged in front of the open window. Revealing a beautiful night sky over the vast New Mexico high desert.
The many bright stars kissed the pitch black sky, while a full moon had the alluring courtesy to shine brightly over the sands. Some of the locals refer it to as a “Rustler’s Moon”; where the titanic pearl would glow bright enough for bandits to see in the dark and snag a poor rancher’s livestock. Chama has had rare occasions of rustlers, or thievery for that matter, so the chances of getting entangled with a situation like that was astronomical. Worries aside, the moon would also neatly frame the distant mountains in a smooth silhouette. Top it all off with the crickets serenading their nightly tune, and the sight was just plain peaceful.
"Beautiful," I admitted softly.
"It is, isn't it?" asked a woman's voice from behind me.
Slightly startled, I turned around to see a woman; roughly in her thirties, standing on the ladder near the edge of the loft. Her silky blonde hair ran down her shoulders in beautiful curls, blanketing over a plaid button-up shirt.
"Hey, Ike," she said with a smile, of which I responded with my own.
"Evening, Mrs. Williamson," I replied, "what are you doing here?" I was not sure how I failed to notice her presence or the creaking sound of the barn doors when she came in.
Anyway, Mrs. Williamson - or Abbie as I've grown to call her - was Charlie's wife and assistant to the ranch. But unlike my cranky boss, she was more friendly and well-spirited. Ever since I came to the farm, she welcomed me with content hospitality.
“I just came back from the bar in town and I just happened to find the barn doors wide open.” she said as she smirked at me with that cute smile. “I thought that was you.”
A hollow laugh escaped my coy smile. “Sorry about that. I was just checking to see if the horses were fed.” I looked at the blonde with a smug look. “By the way, you missed one. You’re welcome.” I had a hunch she was the one who managed the horses. Why she didn’t notify Charlie about this, I will never know.
She lightly giggled before hoisting herself onto the loft with me.
“Oh, come on,” she said with humor behind her tone, “Cletus has the appetite of a wood chipper. It’s almost impossible fatting that horse on a daily basis. Give me some credit here.”
As she wandered over to the empty space beside me, I couldn't help but notice the subtle swaying of her hips in her traditional jeans. Seemed like denim was considered a fashion statement out here in the countryside.
Get your eyes off of her, you pig! She‘s looking right at you!
Thanks again, brain, you buzzkill...
Quickly redirecting my gaze back to the window before Abbie could notice, she sat right beside me.
“Mind if I sit here with you?” she asked in a friendly tone.
I shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I only came up here to relax a while, just to ease the frantic mind.”
Abbie nodded in agreement. “I get ya,” she replied. “Sometimes we need a little rest after working hard all day. And hell, you picked a great way to take a load off.” Some form of chuckling slipped in her statement, as if she was surprised by my choice of relaxation. Granted, I’m not surprised that she’s surprised. “How was your day, by the way?” she asked.
She looked at me with neighborly curiosity, and I chose to look out into the darkened mountaintops in the distance.
“Same old, same old…” my voice dimmed. “I follow an assignment - from feeding the cows to property repair - and I get yelled at... again, by good old gambling man, Charlie.”
My sarcastic remark must’ve clicked inside Abbie’s head, because she shook her head confusedly, slightly taken aback with a raised brow.
“That bad?”
“Don’t believe me?” I glanced at her, “He tasked me to re-shoe one of the horses; a job he knew damn well I couldn’t handle. And as a result, I get kicked in the back of the shoulder, for not ‘holding the hoof properly’ as he puts it. I was holding him like he fucking told me!” The harsh tone in my voice increased, causing me to notice and sigh. “But… yeah. That’s what happened.” I muttered.
Abbie cringed. “Ouch! Does it still hurt?”
“It’s a bit sore, but it wasn’t painful. It was more like being thrown back by the recoil of a powerful gun.” The pulsating bruise over my shoulder blade would disagree. My hand reached over and held the spot in response as a silent inhale slithered sharply between my teeth.
“Are you okay?” she asked with concern. “Do you need me to rub it or something? My husband gets shoulder pains like that, and I give him a good back rub to help.”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you. I did all I could and this is what I get.”
At the corner of my eye, I saw Abbie hold up her hands in an effort to massage the pain, but she refrained from doing such. I just ignored the throbbing.
“Well, I’m sorry Charlie overworked you like that. But there really isn’t a reason to bad mouth about him behind his back.”
Great, now she thinks I’m a coward…
“Besides, you did alright. A lot better than most hired helpers we’ve had.” She smiled at me, even though half my eyesight caught it. I looked at her as she continued with the deepest of sincerity. “You did your best and had an accident. Everybody makes mistakes; we fuck up and move on. So don’t go beating yourself up over something you didn’t cause. And hey, just be glad that horse didn’t stomp your guts out, otherwise you’d be all black and blue.” She chuckled.
Uncomfortable with her sudden joking, I giggled nervously, and smiled bashfully as I absorbed Abbie’s words. She was right about letting things go, and me as her employee, I had the tendency to forget that notion. Time just keeps going no matter what. I just wish all people followed that logic.
“Yeah, but not Charlie. After I finished my chores for the day, he still wouldn’t talk to me. Like I just stole from him or something.” I shook my head. “He really has a hard time letting go.”
“That’s just Charlie being Charlie.” Abbie replied plainly, leaving me confused.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, he doesn’t really like to move forward in life, so to speak. You see, he’s been working here for over 10 years and has been doing the same thing everyday. He’s kinda close minded and...” Abbie struggled for a bit, trying to come up with an appropriate word.
“Living in the past?” I added.
“...Well, stuck is more like it. And it’s been that way ever since he dropped out of college.”
Taken aback, I looked at Abbie confusedly. “He went to college?” I questioned in surprise. I had known that man for seven months and not once had I known he was actually educated. I never snapped at any photos referencing his time in college, or any diplomas in the house.
Abbie looked at me just as confused. “Yeah? Don’t we all?” I shrugged in response. “The only reason Charlie dropped out is because he wasn’t just up for it. He just wanted to stay a cowboy. To this day, even I don’t rightly know. I mean you dropped out, right?”
A sudden pause came between us for a moment. She wasn’t wrong on that one, and I nodded while not looking at her in the eye.
“What was your reason?” I froze. Never had I predicted she was going to ask me that exact question, and I had feared she would.
“...I …” I hesitated, the blonde staring me down, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I retreated as I quickly faced away.
Abbie gave a short sigh, a hint of agitation behind it. “Even you won’t tell me,” she muttered to herself, pinching her nose before she spoke to me. “Look, I’m not trying to belittle you, I’m just trying to make a point here. Cause you’ve been bad mouthing Charlie ever since you two first met. Now please explain to me why you dropped out.” Her tone increased to what I assumed to be demanding.
“You made your point already, can we just-”
“I’m just looking out for my husband,” she interrupted, “he just gets very emotional.”
“I SAID I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT!” I shouted angrily. The pressure in the conversation was all too much for me to endure.
Abbie flinched, as if a vicious dog snarled at her, which from the twitchy look in my eye and sudden barking, would only add to that analogy. Her talking immediately came to a halt, the terrified expression on her face got to me as my insides churned with nauseating rue. I quickly realized what I had done and hastily spoke to her.
“I… I-I’m sorry…” I shakily apologized. “I didn’t mean to… I just-” The shocked face before me remained, forcing me no choice but to give a heavy sigh, brimming with deep regret.
An awkward pause lingered unforgivably, Abbie merely sat there completely dumbfounded by my explosive response. I just looked away, afraid to be judged in her eyes. However, a few words had slipped from my mouth, attempting to break the tension.
“Abbie,” I addressed her by nickname quietly, “I understand you are curious as to why I dropped out of college. But… there’s just…” Struggling to find the right words, I found my voice. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, and what I did… in the past.”
The befuddled cowgirl seemed less frightened and continued to listen.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. It’s just that… it’s a painful subject, and I don’t feel like I should discuss it with you or anyone else.”
Abbie collected her thoughts after they were scattered by my answer. “But… why not?” she cautiously asked.
Silence filled the air for another moment, before I gave my answer as best as I could.
“You said Charlie had it rough?” She nodded slowly. “Well I had it worse. And going back on that is just something I don’t want to even think about, let alone talk about.” I glanced to my peripheral, Abbie softened her hesitation. “I won’t explain, but let’s just say... I couldn’t handle life by myself.”
It took awhile, but eventually Abbie widen her eyes in surprise before they turned sympathetic. “Oh… I see.” she quietly replied. I can tell this was weighing down in her mind, and it left us both with closed mouths, thinking heavily before she finally spoke with a solemn voice.
“Well... for what’s it worth. I’m sorry.” I looked at her inquisitively. “I didn’t know that was a private matter, and I didn’t mean to... intergate you like that. And if it’s that personal, I can honestly respect that, you have my word.”
“You do?”
She smiled. “Absolutely.”
At sincerity of her honesty, a weight was finally lifted from my shoulders and her infectious smile had spread towards mine. She opened her arms, offering a comforting hug. I happily obliged, embracing to where her silky hair brushed my cheek.
But upon movement, caused something to fall out of my pocket. We broke the embrace as Abbie seemed to notice the parcel that fell.
"What's that?" She pointed at the floor.
Looking down, I saw a folded piece of paper and chuckled slightly. "I forgot about this!" I replied as I picked up the paper.
"What is it?" Abbie asked.
"Just an old picture I drew earlier. I got bored a while ago, so I just doodled a little before Charlie called me." I unfolded it into the lantern above us to show a black and white drawing of four cowboys. They were set in the middle of the picture aligned to face me and Abbie with challenging grins.
"Wow, Ike!" Abbie awed. "You certainly have skills other than breaking horses."
I smiled at her. “A guy can have more than one hobby, can’t he?” We chortled at that comment.
After showing her the drawing, I explained to Abbie about these fictional fellows. Talking about their names, their personalities, and their lives. Already planned out as if they were legitimate characters to a story. I did so by naming each character individually.
"That's Vince Gonzales." I pointed to a big mexican man with a bloated chin and sombrero on the left side of the paper. He wore a long-sleeved, button-up shirt with a bandolier wrapped over his shoulder. A shiny belt buckle with a cow skull glistened on his waist.
I moved on to the next person standing by the first. He was also big, but more buff looking, wearing a poncho over a black shirt. The sleeves were folded to expose his broad arms, and was also wearing a bandolier, just like Vince. A flat brimmed hat sat on top of his head. She might not know it, but his skin was supposed to be pink.
"Rufus Wells.”
The next person resided on the far right of the picture. He was pretty skinny for a cowboy, and had black, spiky hair underneath a gambler's hat. A vest and handkerchief complimented his build as he stood their with a smug expression.
"Robert Wood, or ‘Bobby Blackjack’ as he’s known for." Abbie giggled a little at the funny last name.
Finally, I pointed out the gentleman in the middle of the group. He too was skinny, but was rather slim compared to Bobby. A black hat, white shirt, and black suspenders were etched on his body. Glasses surrounded his large cartoon eyes, that gazed right at me as I scrutinized the design.
"And finally, John Everett."
"He looks just like you," Abbie commented.
The resemblance was meant to be, for when I drew these characters I wanted to portray myself as a western hero. Something I’ve wanted to imagine since I was a little kid.
"I call these guys, the Wild West Tech gang," I spoke with pride.
I further explained the premise of these frontiersmen. In my mind, they were basically a gang of cowboys, with an arsenal of superior technology that no other pioneer has ever seen before. Living their lives in the Wild West and battling zombies to protect their world.
Before working in Chama, I used to draw a lot, being that I was an artistic dropout. It was a skill I’ve obtained, which eventually evolved into a sort of passion. And if there's one thing I loved more than simple sketches, it was creating a story behind the art. Moreover, my mind just stuck with a western like element thrown into the mix. I don't know what it was I liked about the old west, but it's influence eventually rubbed off on me. And so far I share no complaints. Even the rancher's wife couldn't agree more.
Abbie looked deep into the picture and smiled with glee at my talents. “Again, Wow!” she exclaimed surprisedly. “This is actually pretty amazing, Ike. I like how well drawn these guys are, from their hats to their bodily features. How come you don’t want pursue this as a career instead of working here with us?"
“Hey, I never said I was gonna leave you guys in the dust. Although, Charlie would be an exception.” I grinned jokingly and Abbie chuckled. I continued to examine the drawing. “Besides, these are just rough sketches. It would be a great idea, but I'm alright with just working here."
There were nearly a million reasons as to why I’d quit this heinous job and move someplace else. The hardships of a farmer is just not my strongest suite. Maybe if I had the right amount of support, it would be a breeze, but instead I end up being stuck with a hillbilly curmudgeon. But honestly, where would I go? What am I going to do?
And… who would help me?
“Well, if you ever need any help,” Abbie snapped me out of my thoughts, “I’ll be right here.” She patted me on the back. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time we turn in for the night. We still need to herd the cattle out into pasture tomorrow and we can’t afford to sleep in late. You think you’re up for it?”
I kept my eyes on the picture. Old talents suddenly bring back old memories, when all was good in life. Folding the paper, I shove it down my pocket. “Ready when you are.” I replied, pepped with mild enthusiasm.
“Excellent!” she chirped before standing up and readied to climb down the ladder. I began to follow. But then, she stopped. Her head once again peeked over the ledge. “And, listen...” she said, still feeling guilty according to her hesitant gesture, “I’m sorry. About… you know.”
“Water under the bridge.” I said as I forgave with a wave of my hand. “What was it you implied minutes ago? ‘Shit happens?’” She might’ve milked her philosophy a little, but I understood the gist of it.
She smiled almost smugly. “That’s hitting it on the nail. But try to ease up on that attitude next time. You won’t get friends that way, you know?” Finishing off with those last words, she descended down the ladder. Leaving me with my short smile, extinguished.
Friends...
For what felt like a while, I stood over the edge of the loft, ignoring the blonde farmer that just walked out into the warm night. Thoughts burst open the flood gate in my mind, washing over into my chest with a sudden and sickening force. All the enthusiasm was gone, and Abbie didn’t even bother to notice.
I never had a lot of friends growing up and that limited circle of friends eventually dwindled. Leaving me all alone to combat the harshest of times. And so here I remain, in an isolated ranch in the middle of rural New Mexico, with nothing but fear and sadness left in this hopeless wanderer. Way to naively shoot me down like that, Abbie.
Now twice as tired than before, I lazily climbed down the ladder and proceeded to the barn doors. Not an ounce of energy surged through my body, which means that alluring bit of furniture I called a bed was calling me over. And I was born to answer that call.
As I strolled towards the exit, I counted each horse in each stall that passed my vision. All looked at me without a care in the world, while some fell fast asleep. I made a mental checklist as I continued my strut. That is until I halted dead in my tracks at the last stall at the far corner. A sort of shadowy figure in the shape of a horse, obviously. I thought my eyes were performing trickery, as I swore up and down that the mane of the lone animal flowed. Like, literally flowed… almost like it was made of smoke.
“What the…” My brain couldn’t make heads or tails as to what I was actually seeing right in front of me. It might’ve been the lack of sleep that was sabotaging my eyesight, but the only thing that boggled me the most was where the horse stood.
Didn’t Charlie sell that horse?
“Ike!” The sudden call of my name made me jump, and turn to Abbie from outside. “You coming to bed?”
“Uh, be right there!” I replied. Ignoring whatever mirage must’ve manifested in that stall, my groggy brain comprehended Abbie’s calling as I continued my exit. I closed the barn doors behind me as soon as I could feel fresh air penetrate my nostrils.
Rubbing my eyes of their dreary essence, I was too tired to even bother investigating. Besides, I wanted to wake up tomorrow with plenty of energy. The last thing I want is to fall asleep on the back of a horse, just waiting for a certain persnickety redneck to unleash hell through verbal abuse.
Yet… I still felt empty. Like an empty cave, with just a small fire to keep the walls as warm as possible. No doubt sleep was going to be a problem.
***
…
“Is that him?” I thought to myself. “Certainly that mustn’t be him… I-I thought for sure that…” Panic briefly filled my mind. “No! Don’t blame yourself. If this is who I was lead to… then it must be true.”
As I watched the… whatever it was, vacate the premises, I couldn’t help but give my sympathy towards him. His emotional energy surged from his temperament as well as his solitary behavior. But why? What is about this creature am I to unveil?
…
I must discover this for myself. After all, dreams must still occur from every sentient being.
And not just ponies.