shot of joy for the errant knight, 15.05.2019

Crows caw in the distance. The sky is of a bright, cloudless blue. In it, a blazing star blasts the landscape with searing heat and blinding light. It's midday. No hint of shade to be seen. Sun-stricken he walks forward. His armour threatens to boil through his skin. Gleaming, enamelled plate that he got from his parents. A legacy that did him well in his many years of campaigning. That he can't just get rid of. Bloodied, dented and unbroken. A little like him, he observes. He could use a drink. He feels for his wine-sack, and it's a little lighter than he'd like. Still a lot of way left to walk. In his mind, the memory of her kiss. Her parting lips summon a shiver to his spine and a memory of a heat far greater than the one now threatening him with unconsciousness. He adjusts his grip on his bag, swallows dryly, and focuses on thoughts of her green. Out of the desert and into her green eyes. A hot wind blows at his tanned face, heat waves shimmering off his armour. Out of the sand and towards her warm embrace. His hair plastered to his head with sweat. Out of the dunes and on he goes to her smiling.