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Hector couldn’t imagine
water being the best nourishment for something so miraculous, so
supernatural. He thought also, that the God of the Sun- so capable and so creative himself, would not need to rely on such a generic asset of his Earth brother. Not that he disrespected something so vital to his own mortal existence either; he just imagined that something more unexpected would be needed to nurture these pure-golden creations. As the mass of bodies began to shift around him like the tides of the ocean, the large chestnut remained in place a little longer, thinking about the phenomenon now all around him.
When he’d approached to begin with, the rivers all around had moved away, spilt further from his reach; teasing, taunting, though the sand-lover had long been comfortable in the company of such wicked illusions. He stepped forward, one sound hoof reaching out before the other, and the radiant flowers danced away from him-
curious. Thoughtfully, he moved another step, and again His blooms followed suit, and at the same time all other apparitions reallocated.
You cannot touch them... Veci revealed,
obviously... Hector tossed his great twice-horned skull towards the flickering ghost to his left, annoyed that he would think so little of his ingenuity.
Thank you. I wasn’t trying to, he answered silently, scornfully, smiling quickly to appease the tightness of their bond.
He figured that trying simply to combine those mirages already existing would not work. They would need a mirage, a river or pool, to form beneath the shining, golden flowers. He had some experience with heat hazes, mirages and their variations, having lived for a long time in the blistering desert environment. They needed cool air to descend upon the warmth which the God of the Sun was radiating- naturally. Heavenly Fields was the ideal place with a cool mountain atmosphere, no matter how potent the wrath of Tallsun became. He watched curiously the one called Elsa begin to craft an object- a lens, and he realised that their approach, was along the same lines.
Hector spread his wings quickly, reactively, into a thermal column and began a careful, slow ascent as close above the mare’s design as he could manage. The air just near the field’s floor was unstable, warm while He remained, and the stallion’s body rocked through the turbulence until he was high enough to note the change in temperature. From that altitude he began to beat gently his wings to drive down the cooler air upon the lens, with hope that an
inferior mirage might settle beneath the thirsty blooms.
Very clever!
We will see...
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