Perspiration had his dark locks clinging rebelliously to his tawny flesh upon his forehead and about the sides of his face. Sand grains and dust seemed to rasp against his cheek, joining his faint stubble and leading up to his temple before it meshed with a few strands of his hair. His cheek was pressed to the sands, eyes flickering subconsciously behind his lids as the sands misted around him in dunes and storms which had him inhaling the burning sediment. Kaden came conscious with a raw sound in the back of his throat as sense returned to him gradually. Vision blurred and spinning, he kept the left side of his face to the ground and strived to form a coherent thought, seeing nothing but endless mists which seemed to be swirling, churning as if a wind disturbed its resting place.<br/><br/>The depths of his green jewels studied the sands, flickering his gaze down to where his fingers rested, tentatively brushing his fingers through the substance, letting it skim softly down his skin. Why did it feel so rough and brutal against his all too sensitive skin, yet so soft when he ran his hands through it?<br/><br/>The Guardian’s breath caught abruptly in his throat and fists appeared in the sands as he pushed his chest from it and coughed brutally, leaving the passage to his lungs sore and bruised. Sand had collected in the back of his mouth upon inhaling and he spat it out in the hopes of ridding the foul taste and texture which crunched against his teeth when a muscle twitched in his jaw. Raking a hand down his strong features to rid the collection of substance, he pushed to his feet and refrained from wincing as the blood clotted with the retched material beneath him which seemed to absorb the crimson. The warrior turned his face to watch as it seeped from his black armour breast plate, trickling in rivulets of rouge through his leather bands of his biceps, smearing his arms in scarlet. The lashings taken to his powerful back would leave scarring, now crushed tightly against the breastplate he was clad in. Curling his lip with distaste, the Godly creation began his stride, unable to see throughout the dusty planes, surrounded by… nothingness.<br/><br/>With his loyal long sword sheathed at his back, the male listened to the twisting silence broken only by the deathly winds. Skillful fingers flexed about the hilt of his weapon, just over his broad shoulder, studious eyes scanning through the solid hue of sand, no variation in colour. Never ending. Clad in the common leather like black trews which hung loosely around his legs and hips, he stalked through the wastes as a predator might, unwilling to take chances upon this earthen plane he had never been sent to before. Taste, scent, sensation was everywhere, sparking upon his tongue, in his nostrils, rasping against his skin. A breeze he was sensitive to and found compelling, the heat he found searing and uncomfortable. Hours he walked, hope near lost to him, contemplating that mayhap the Gods had punished him with more than banishment, more than the lashings of whips for his failure, but with an endless path intended to lead him to insanity. Panic enveloped his mind yet his heartbeat remained steady, breathing slightly heavy. Sound… the grunts of beings, living, civilisation so close. Kaden broke out into a sprint, arms pumping at his sides as his lean muscular body darted through the mists with inhuman speed, clutching to any hope that he might escape this wasteland where only the promise of madness lingered ahead. He skidded to a halt when he reached something great. The mountain had his eyes lifting, awed by the sight before he continued to follow the path of the noise. The blood loss had begun to take its toll upon him though he was far from weak. Nonetheless, soon he was forced to cease, his injuries too great even for his kind. The male slumped down against the wall, eyes staring blindly at nothing.<br/>