The great gasping ravine echoed my every breath and the huffing of the steed that heroically carried me. Both hunger and night were settling in swiftly and the rainbow of the sunset revealed its secrets to me in a way no one else could admire. My bones ached, furiously dragging me further and further after each step my strong Helios took towards the destination. I hollered for him to stop and to turn in for the night, and before I slumped off his sturdy shoulders, I took a glance towards the blaze of the setting sun in the sky. A large rocky mountain loomed over menacingly, readying itself to drop boulders on us as soon as the light dissipated and nobody could see or hear my agonising screams.

Though the boulders would’ve allowed me a fair excuse to cry out in pain. I waited patiently for one, two, three minutes before I realised the mountain was as steady as my horse; it was determined to stand tall and keep all its stones to itself.

In a sense it was like me - solid, strong, independent, quiet, secretive, alone. It kept to itself, not interrupting or bothering anyone who passed by. Looking up at the monstrous rock, I imagined myself in its place, large and isolated from the rest of the world. How peacefully lonely it is.

The isolation does get to you eventually, and sometimes the smaller pebbles drop down, for someone to see or hear. It’s never enough to concern them or show them how much pressure is holding the rest of you together, but they see it nonetheless. It’s enough for them to understand there’s more to you than what you allow them to see, your innards may be hidden but they know they’re there - just not what they look like.

That’s the whole purpose of a soul isn’t it? A hidden piece of you that very few will understand and even less will see for themselves. Helios huffed loudly and I found myself slipping from the saddle, landing on the Sandy ground, offered him a reassuring pat, as if to tell him we could rest for the night.

He immediately rested down where he stood, nuzzling his head into the palm of my hand. He thanked me for the break. I sit next to him, leaning against him slightly and feel myself dozing off to the sound of his steady breathing in my ear and the warmth of his body against my back. Sleep never came so easily as it did tonight, and as I thought once more of the rocky mountain, I remembered how each stone leant on each other to maintain that sturdiness.