As saddened as he was from having to leave the endless horizon behind, Lace was rather relieved to once again find good traction beneath the hooves. He was tiring rapidly now, his muscles beginning to feel lactic and heavy. Somewhere along the Steppe the positions of the contestants had shifted, lending him an honorable second place - for now, at least. But at the moment the stallion couldn't care less about whether he came in first or last. He simply wanted it all over with, so he could lay down and rest.

Breaths came heavily as he continued to run, guided through the misty forest of the Edge's border by the pale figure of his dragon. Her scales gleamed like a beacon of light and urged him forward, ever forward. Lace found his body working almost on autopilot as it weaved through the trees, hooves placing numbly onto mossy ground and stumbling over roots and rocks that he normally should have been able to avoid. The mist was annoying. It made him feel as if though he was stuck in a nightmare, running and running without ever getting anywhere. Trapped, waiting for the beast to approach him from behind and dig the claws deep into his flanks... It sighed, breaths heavy and never ending, like the slow rocking of waves against the shoreline.

Then suddenly a salty breeze scattered the mist and an endless stretch of gleaming sand appeared before his eyes. Gilded eyes widened as Lace took in the sight of the merry dunes, that seemed to invite him to come and play along them. He breathed in deeply the refreshing scent of the sea, and somehow it felt as though he might have some strength left. Perhaps he could pick up the pace just a little more, stretch the tired legs only a little bit further. When the ground changed beneath his feet and turned from hollow earth and dying leaves into loose and shifting sand, it felt for a moment as if he had come home. An ache coursed through his chest as the memory of the Tides awakened with full force. A sad smile adorned his lips, and with the white mane whipping in the strong breeze he guided the steps closer to the clucking waves. The sand would be wet there, hard packed and easier to run on.

A triumphant warble from Fajira made the exhausted stallion look up from the ground beneath him. Before them, at the end of the rapidly disappearing beach, waited the finish line and a lady who's beauty he only had been allowed to behold once before. Awed by the presence of the Goddess, the stallion felt himself urged to make one last effort. With all the strength he had left he dug the hooves deep into the sand and heaved himself forward, the muscled neck stretched out and tail flaring out like a white stream in his wake. He thundered down the last stretch of sand, feeling the thrill of the race come over him once more. The mind soared, he felt light and weightless, all thoughts set on the single task on reaching the goal of this long and arduous race. Fajira flew beside him, laughing from enjoyment over this magnificent game - winning or loosing didn't matter anymore, as they felt rewarded simply from being able to share this experience with one another.

And then he passed the lavender lady of night, and at once all the strain from the race came upon him again. The stallion slowed down to a trot, then a walk.. and then the legs gave out beneath him and he sunk down into the warm sand, panting and laughing breathlessly. It was over, and he had made it. They had made it.