He stepped a hoof onto the rocks, tapping it lightly so as to test its validity. Watching as it stayed, he gave a small smile and proceeded to climb the steps. Planting all four hooves on the first stair, he blew out a long breath and glared upward. He bit his lower lip. One down, about twenty-five left to go. He lowered his head and sighed. Shaking his rump, he jumped to the next step and landed, teetering lightly like a journeyman tight-roper. Finally balancing, he groaned and repeated the action, bouncing up and making it closer toward the top.

He continued, eventually reaching about halfway.

There, he breathed in and out as if he had run a marathon, glancing upward at his goal. He grinned...

...and collapsed to the ground, his head banging against the sand-covered stone. His lungs worked as hard as they possibly could, but only gave him short, hitched results as his brow sweat heavily and his heart beat slowly. Blue eyes panning around the area, he squinted in a dazed awe at the wilderness hundreds of miles around him. Blowing air out of his wheezing lungs, the edges of his mouth rose.

Thousands of orange rocks rose from the ground, each different sizes and shapes like desert snowflakes. He saw tumbleweeds tumbling about aimlessly on the ground hundreds of feet below the mountain, almost in the same vein as he. Flying around within their own territories were packs of vultures on the hunt for any available meat sitting around, sounds of their cawing echoing across the valley. The sun beat down upon him with the weight of twenty tons, threatening to kill him if he didn't take his damned clothes off.

He shook his head.

Not happening.

The clouds above him continued on their way, agreeing with him as their white exteriors complemented the otherwise clear blue sky. Peering at the sun, it glared brightly back at him as a single cumulus began to pass in front of it. He blinked as a vulture flew by, shouting audibly and piercing his eardrums. Gritting his teeth, he gave a dramatic sigh and began to get to his hooves. Rolling over, he stretched his legs and stood, popping his back and his neck in both an impressive and disgusting display for absolutely no one to see.

Blowing a prolonged raspberry, he reached toward his back and found his holster. Grabbing at what he needed, he pulled the weapon from the holster and brought it out, holding it in front of him. Glancing down at it, he cocked the slide and watched as it clicked back. Smirking, he aimed it toward the sky, held his breath, and pulled the trigger. The rifle barked, and a loud caw accompanied it as the vulture fell toward earth. Slamming the butt end into the next step up, he chuckled darkly as the bird smacked into the desert rock in front of him, its bleeding stomach to the air.

Bringing the rifle back to his chest, he felt its surface, now cracked and weathered from its exposure to the elements. The scope previously attached to it was long gone and completely forgotten, having been left in the ensuing chaos of what had happened months ago. The glint of the sun was evident in every rock, and he didn't want to get blinded if he was so much as looking for food out here. His marksman rifle had kept him alive for quite some time, and he didn't want to just up and discard it in favor of another weapon.

Even seeing as who he was and what he was known for, the desert just wasn't a place to destroy with sticky bombs and RPG's. No. He had learned that the first day he was out here. There was no fucking around when you get actual sunburn. And with heatstroke being a constant threat, there wasn't any time to lounge about in the sun either.

Suddenly realizing this, he holstered the rifle and trotted toward the dead vulture. Eyes widening, he sucked in his teeth as he noticed how much damage he had done. The entire chest cavity was gone, leaving behind very little amounts of meat for him. Shutting his eyes, he shook his head and groaned. Waste of ammo and a waste of time. Plus he was a dick for just murdering an innocent creature. Blue eyes beheld the sight tenderly as he thought as to where he'd get his next meal.

Being a pony, it wasn't all too hard to digest meat, but his body sometimes rejected it. Vomiting was normal but rare. He shook his head, wanting to stop the disgusting thoughts from emerging into reality. Licking his lips idly, he stuck his tongue against his cheek and thought for a minute of his life. He frowned, bent over, and picked up the bird as he turned his head and poked his muzzle into his saddlebags. Grasping at a small rope, he awkwardly wrapped the fowl's neck with the lasso and tied it to his bags. Shaking his body, he tested its status and smiled as it remained still. Nodding his head, he looked back up to the steps and began to ascend once again.

The wind blowing furiously, he felt his tattered cloak rustle with it as if it were its role model-

He stopped.

Wiping his mouth with a hoof, he shut his eyes and thought the thought away.

He nodded once again as it faded, and he jumped to the next rock, grunting all the way. He was close to the peak, and once he was there, he'd finally be able to see if he was close. He had to be. He'd been out here for months. The powers that were couldn't just not make him close to his destination. It just wouldn't be fair.

Halting, he turned his head as he felt a disturbance. Biting his lower lip, he quickly adjusted the red cape, praying that it wasn't as scratched as his cloak. He gave a soft smile as he noticed that it wasn't. Thank God. Rotating his head back to face forward, he narrowed his eyes and smirked. Alright. He had this now. Getting low, he prepared himself, breathed out, and jumped. Successfully landing on the platform, he quickly wiped his brow and resumed his prior actions.

This continued on and on, and he swore that he would eventually collapse and tumble back down the steps only to start over again. It wouldn't have been the first time. His hooves ached, his stomach grumbled, and his head and heart hurt in a tag-team-like fashion. By now, his forehead was completely soaked, but he had no time to dab at it. Gritting his teeth, he put all of his strength into getting up higher. Only ten steps left. He had to get there. He had to see.

Looking at the summit, he raised a hoof to proceed further. Suddenly, he stopped, his ears perking upward.

Blue eyes shrank.

Glancing about in a panic, he cursed and fell to the floor, splaying his forelegs out in an attempt to appear dead. His heart now beating furiously, he hoped that it was convincing enough as the sound came from far off in the wasteland.

SKEEROOOOOOOW!

He clenched his eyes shut tightly, pressing his cheek against the cold stone. It was coming. Keeping one ear erect, he searched for the sound of its approach and began to catch it off in the distance. It was heavy sounding, almost like a thousand vultures flapping their wings furiously into a single microphone. Pursing his lips, he waited for it to lose interest and leave, but found only failure as the sound grew closer. He dared not move. He had no real idea of how large it was.

Damned thing could see as if nothing was hidden in the world. Even so much as glancing its way would cause it to suddenly glare down at the source as swift as a hawk.

It most definitely wasn't a hawk.

No.

He could fuck up a hawk.

This was a different story.

The flapping stopped, and he instead heard the almost inaudible sound of wind whistling. He gulped. It was circling his body. Careful to maintain his breathing, he waited it out. Patience was key, and he certainly didn't want to become its next meal. No. Everything else in the Badlands had the potential to be its next meal. He just had to make sure he wasn't the focusing point. So, calmly, he remained still and awaited its leave.

SKEEROOOOOOOW!

He grit his teeth as the sound blasted his ears, but he still kept quiet. All he wanted to do was simply get up and let it take him, but something in the back of his mind told him that that simply wasn't the right choice. Despite everything in the back of his head telling him it would work, he somehow knew that everything he had on him wouldn't even scratch the surface of killing the monstrous bird. Something told him it was just sad about one of its own kind dying.

That didn't bode very well for him and the rifle very evident across his back. Hopefully the thing didn't know what a gun looked like.

A sigh escaped his lips as the flapping returned, slowly fading out as his heart beat loudly in his ears. The sound stopped once again, and he opened his eyes to check his surroundings. Careful to peer just out of the corners of his eyes, he did a quick one-eighty and found nothing. Giving a shaky breath, he grinned and suppressed the urge to pull a Jesse Pinkman and shout, "Yeah, bitch!" in delight.

Instead, he gave a low whoop in thankfulness and shakily rose to his hooves, now scanning his full field of vision. Nothing. Not a single shadow and not a single animal in sight. Even the vultures from earlier had hidden away. It seemed that the entire desert knew how much of a badass the large beast was, which was both good and bad for him. Shrugging, he decided that, fuck it, it was probably the worst thing ever.

But hey.

He shook the saddlebags and felt his prize's head wobble.

At least he had ammo.

Now he just had to find a good stick and make a bow. And learn how to shoot a bow. Efficiently. And with perfection. There was no time to be piss-poor in such a place. Nodding for the umpteenth time to himself that day, he looked back toward the elevation and resumed his task at hand, hopping up the stone steps to reach the peak.

As he did, he smiled.

Just five steps now.

He jumped.

Four.

He did it slower this time, but he didn't know why.

Three.

Much slower.

Two.

He placed each hoof gingerly onto the platform as he brought himself up with it.

One.

His gaze drew upward. The final step was more of a ledge. Shaking his rump, he crouched low, hissed, and leaped. A hoof caught onto the edge, and he slowly, excruciatingly drew himself over the rock. Teeth grit, he cursed at everything and everyone he knew in an attempt to either justify or better himself. Neither idea worked, but he eventually succeeded and stood at the top of the mountain. Surprised, he turned his head and regarded the ascension now idle behind him.

Yup.

He made it.

Giving a low sigh, he dipped his head and found a grin creeping across his face. Brow sweating, hooves hurting, and his head absolutely brutal with its onslaught, he stepped toward the cliff face, intent on finding his destination from atop one of the highest mountains in the Badlands. He sucked in a breath as he reached the edge, his face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. He was almost as giddy too.

His eyes reflected the sight before him.

A simple, flat, barren plot of desert land stared him back from hundreds of feet below in the valley. His previously happy expression faltered heavily, falling down multiple levels until it was now just a simply casual frown. He blinked rapidly, attempting to change the sight before him like an antique movie reel.

Still, the land remained, and he breathed air into his lungs, let it out, and suddenly collapsed back onto the floor, not caring for the amounts of pain that came with his skull's contact on the hard stone. Groaning as loudly as he could muster, he attempted to wipe his face, only stopped by the permanently frowning, battered mask now chipped and dirtied beyond compare. Curling up into a ball, he frowned at the still image and blinked. His clothes kept him warm, despite the sun already doing so.

He supposed that he would simply die out here.

Crossing his forelegs as he lay there like an angst-filled teenager, he glared at the ground to his right, the clouds and the sun and the sky now vertical to his immediate left.

The wind blew fiercely.

The birds, now out again, cawed in his ears from miles below.

Finally, he opened his mouth.

And H2O Delirious spoke, his voice gravelly, low, and hoarse.

"I fucking hate sand."

Author's Notes:

My name is Delirious. My world is fire.

No but seriously I can't wait for you guys to see how this comes into play.