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Dom Draegg Amon wiped his arm across his forehead. His bare arms and face were covered in a thick layer of sweat. Though the Djinni could better tolerate the heat, they still felt it. Unlike the Saetesh, who did not feel the heat of the sun at all. He lifted a skin of water and uncorked it. His slitted eyes narrowed as they swept over the flat stone covered by a thin layer of sand that was carried away in small waves by the wind. He took a small drink of water from the skin and corked it back before tucking it into a pouch on his horse's saddle. He glanced down at the animal and muttered, "You need a name." With a snort he looked back up at the land ahead. It was still morning, and he had plenty of sunlight left before the sweltering day gave way to - ironically - freezing night. In the near distance he could see: Dunes. They rose and fell; dipping and curving; sloping and spiraling. The most unlikely maze in the world. With luck he could reach a camp by nightfall and seek food and shelter for the night. It was an unspoken law in the west to take in travelers, and he needed to conserve as much food as he could for when he could not reach a camp for the night.
Dom gently spurred his horse onward. Desert horses were hardier than eastern horses. They could go longer without food and water, they could go farther without tiring, and were nearly impervious to the heat of the desert wastelands. They were fearless and strong animals, though not deadly like the giant wolves of the north. As the horse trotted forward, Dom noticed it was turning slightly to the left. Tugging on the reigns he managed to get the animal back on the right path. His eyes went back up, and with a grimace he said, "If you keep doing that, horse, I'm going to call you stupid."
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Like all soldiers . . Dom had hated the daily marching.
But, it did keep him in shape. That was something he was thankful for. It boosted his resolve and his willpower. It taught him to push on no matter what the obstacles and no matter how tired you felt. You just had to keep moving. Dom's lips twitched into the shadow of a smirk before he grabbed the reigns with his right hand and spurred his horse on. The soldiers had their destination, and he had his.
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