Bolion finally managed to get into a position where his neck didn't snap backwards or forwards when he stopped sitting up, and within several minutes, began to doze.
As a travelling merc, sleeping any and everywhere came easily to him. The back of a horse was no exception. Now almost fully asleep, Bolion began to dream.
The tall stalks of yellow grass swayed in the wind, rippling like an ocean of grain. His heavy lidded eyes fell again, obscuring the sight, but not the sounds and smells. Rustling and the long, sorrowful cries of desert gulls called to him, urging him to explore. But he was in the saddle, strapped down so he wouldn't fall out, and simply had to hear from afar. The entire place was thick with the smell of baked dirt, a strong scent, but not a bad one.
Suddenly he was picked up, the straps of his saddle undone, and wrapped in a blanket, like a cloak. He was set down amidst the wheat, and he saw a face similar to his, but also a little different. She - for it was a she - had the same coloured skin that he did, but her features were much more beautiful.
Before he could say anything, she mounted the horse again, and rode away. Bolion simply stood there, the stalks shifting above his head.
Bolion opened his eyes, rested but deeply unsettled. He looked up, but the stars were still above them, and the sun was out of sight.
"How long was I asleep?" He asked, still watching the stars above them.
