Tilney

Time was almost up. The orange, vibrant colours were fading from the landscape before him, retreating with their master; the sun. The lad hoped desperately to reach these heavenly fields before the moon stole his sight. Surely the fields would be the perfect sanctuary for him to rest on this cool night.
His sight though, His nightblind eyes were already failing him as the sun kissed its goodbyes over a distant ridge. He felt betrayed just as he did every evening. Soon he would be abandoned and left sightless once again until finally that fiery star returned to its daytime post the following morn.
How much further were these fields? His uphill treading seemed to be in vain, and he had been at it the better half of this day. Was he headed the right way? The brutes split hooves ached and cried to him to stop, but how could he stop here on this path? It was probably a highway for all kinds of creatures and since his arrival in Helovia he'd learnt not all creatures here were so kind.
He would press on though, fearful that twilight was soon to trap him.
Finches returned to their trees while eagles took their final glide. Far far ahead though Tilney could see the silhouette of a much bigger pair of wings; A griffin perhaps? This young stallion had only ever encountered one or two of the creatures, what an interesting sight it would be. It gave him all the more motivation to push on upwards and so his marble clefts urged on with the pass.
It wasn't even the usual suspect that throttled his sight, it was the fog this time. It had been choking his viridescent gaze ever so slightly from the moment he began his ascent but at this moment it was just as blinding as a sleeping sun. It would take a bit more then that to stop this young stallion. Pale stones dug into the earth, a deep grunt escaping his chest as he lunged up the remainder of the bluff in a striking trot. Those flaxen feet of his took striking blind steps, sometimes into nasty stones. His hooves struck until they found their way into a much softer platform; lush meadow grass.
Tilneys emerald gaze caught the very last of shadows the sun cast. He had made it, but the moons nightshift has come and that was a light too dim for his spoiled gaze. Bronze eyelids closed over verdant view, a sigh nudged from his lungs, and when those bronze eyelids were removed from his eyes he saw just as much as when they were closed. Night was well and truly here and there he stood sightless in an open meadow. He could smell others; this was not safe.
Fumbling, he began his journey across the vast grassland. The other senses he owned did what they could to alert him of what was surrounding him, but still he stumbled and faltered his way across the grass plane.
He walked for a half hour and he knew he must be going in circles. There was a risk in sleeping here tonight, but it was a risk he might have to take. He was so lost.
He had given up, and he took a careless step forwards right onto a sharp rock. Tripping and scrambling, the large stone was tossed between his fetlocks until it had him on his knees. "OOHF!".
He felt so hopeless. Picking his own bronze bodice up from the meadow floor he winced, feeling hot blood on one of his fetlocks. His perfect white socks were made temporarily imperfect by a bloodstain and a nasty gash. "ouch" he groaned, wishing he could stop everything and sob at this hopeless situation he had got himself in. All he wanted to do today was explore!
But was that the hum of wings he heard? the whoosh of a swoop? He turned his nose in the direction of an ivory doe and her griffin, but his black vision would not permit him an image. The faes breaths were close, she was not far from him at all; That was how he knew they were there.

He was so relieved to know someone else was there, but mildly embarrassed that they had probably witnessed his fumbling in circles in front of them the last half hour. He had vowed to himself when he passed from the threshold with Africa that no one would know of his ailment, this disability of his. But he was so desperate. And if he didn't tell this lass his name she could not tell others, could she? would she tell others anyway?
And so his secret to her would be his name. He had no doubt that by now she may of guessed he was blind as a bat.
"Sorry to bother" he began "but I'm very very lost and I cant see a thing, could you help me? I am only trying to find somewhere to sleep" Tilney uttered to the invisible mare.
His voice was so cheerful and upbeat, but still quite desperate. His fetlock throbbed, all four hooves pounded and his muscles ached. If this fae could help him to a safe place he would be eternally grateful.