Fragmenting, splitting, bursting shards of light falling to dust, the sound of shattering howls through his ears in a light Tone. The light which once shone above him seemed to have left, now replaced by a sudden warmth.

The sun now atop, a howling wind crawls up his exposed back, sand building up on the side of his numb body, he can feel it too, coming to his sences, he can feel his body resting on the warm sand. His lips kissing the grains, the sun already stinging him with its sharp rays, he lumply finds a hold on his arm.

His fingers softly sinking in the sand, he lumply rotates himself on his back, he exhails dry, mumbling his displeasure, as he manages to sit up, his eyes wander arround warm dunes, sweating away his only water he would be able to find in the area, he widens his eyes.

His ears beginn to ring, only after he relizes where he ended up, his mind seemed to have entered back its body, he looks into the distances surrounding him, then back down onto his palms, some of the grains resting in his palm. He struggles to blink, his stomach cramping up as he figures out that the place he found himself, was indeed not a dream.

Dry huffs escape him, scared he somehow manages up to get on his feed, like a toddler he nearly looses his balance, struggling to keep ahold, he finally manages to find a solid stance. His brows cramp together, critically he scans his surroundings, his gaze meeting only sand, piled together by the wind which blow against his ankles.

The sun burns his skin slowly, the stings a soft reminder of how urgent it is, to find a settlement or water, soon. With that knowledge, he goes forward, his soles sinking in the grains getting pushed away under his feet. The young boy sinks his head, following the shine of the sand with his pupills, sometimes he'd hold up his hand close to his face, stretching his fingers as he tries to process the reality he ended up in.

Reality seems blurry, serious lacks in his memory become clear to him as he struggles to climb up one of the dunes, the sand not granting him any solid surface for his feet. Anything that happened before the cracking noise, which numbed his mind was gone. Pure whiteness consumed what he left behind, he lets out a sighing noise, groaning alone as he reminds himself there was nothing left he could look behind on.

He stumbles down the dune again, barely avoiding falling on his knees as I reaches the bottom again, him scratching his neck and shoulders became more frequent by the meter, his eyes feel dry, his dry skin rubbing against his eyes felt unpleasant, as he blinks. His breathing mostly happened through his mouth, much dryer than his lids, his tounge thirsted for water.

The boy fell down as the sun began to set, eventough it now hadn't stood directly over him anymore, its heat still burrowed deep into his irritated skin. Hunger has set in, chasing his ever growing determination to find moisture. With void huffing he dug his hand into the sand to somehow move his numb torso, the heat twisting his sight, the air arround him dacing under the warmth.

With numb legs, he shoveled himself forward, his nails digging deep into the pale orange surrounding him, with time his arms slowly lost strengh aswell, winds howling him, their sounds making fun of his slothing speed, as they speed over him. His finger tips beginn to hurt, the grains stuck deep under his nails, his joins also heavy, void of any moisture.

His face resting motionless on the grains, he looks blankly towards the direction his journy was planned in. The half of his face dug in the sand, his pores aching him for a scratch. Prickling as much as his burnt upper back, he refuses to stop nontheless.

Why arrive here if he'd end up dead anyway, if it was a person responsible for him ending up in the middle of nowhere, he couldn't just dry up like that without finding out the reason. He sounded more desperate as he groans louder, trying to shout dry words into the dunes.

He stockingly reaches out one last time, before stopping for good, both his arms and legs were numb, throbbing cramps were developing in his calves. He flashes his teeth, his dried throat not able to give voice to his shouting, he slumps down again.

He balls his hands, his scratched fingers forming a fist, sand trapping inside of it, as he squeezes what ever he could form a grip on. The question of why excactly he was desided to be the one to arrive here softly following with playfull steps.

Numbly, he rotates, the sun was digging too deep into his already burnt skin, his eyes darting arround the perfect blue entrapping him in the sand. His head falling to the side, once again he widens his pupills.

A sledge, cloth in washes greys and browns sliding atop the grains, two thickly hooded people sitting atop of it, with every blink he risked, his vision blurred, he stretched out his shaky hand at the blurred sledge. Before finally faiding into complete darkness again, his Hand falls, hopefully to find himself out of the dream he was trapped in.

The sledge came to a hold, the bend wood stopping in the split up sand, both figures stepping up, onto the sand, one grabbing ahold on the slumping body, as the other looks behind the trail the unfamiliar person left behind. Tucked ontop the layered cloth, they strap the body down, tying a tight knot arround the boys wrists. Both of the iron masks meet eachother, reflecting the shine of the sun, as they look at eachother through the many finger-thick holes.

Both crouch down, on their knees, following the path of the boy, a orange glimmer escaping the bandaged hand on the person in the front.