sleep never really came easy in the desert. it was restless, unsatisfying. sometimes he would wake up feeling just as exhausted as the night before. he didn't have this issue as much as before the riders crumbled beneath him, though now most nights were fitful and he tossed and turned in his nest. his little crevice in the caves felt suffocating some nights, and he would spend the rest of it wandering the tunnels. tonight was one such night where he couldn't concentrate on sleep. his dreams were filled with vivid images. messages. voices. sometimes he heard his mother. other times he heard swank. his father. occasionally there would be this one distinct voice, different yet familiar to the rest. he could never quite place where it had come from though.


transit umbra; lux permanet

"???"

[abbr=the voice of the people]….vox….populi….

"who are you...?"

[abbr=servant... lamb of god]….factotum….agnus dei….

he jolted awake with a strangled gasp and stood upright. his chest heaved for air, the whites of his eyes clear around wide baby blues.

"[abbr=the die is cast!]alea jacta est!" he choked out, his body tense and stiff as a board as his mind raced over the fading memories of the dream. she stood before him... beautiful, graceful fur that flickered like flames. he couldn't see her face but her shadow... stood high above him. she spoke and he could understand it, but not in the waking world. not here. he barely registered what he said upon waking.

the warlord's breathing evened. his heart slowed back down and he closed his eyes. he stepped out of his crevice and hurried out of the caves. his paws moved on their own. his face was stone. no snarky comment or sly grins shot in the direction of the guards he passed. no greetings to the nocturnal animals he passed by.

benny halted when he reached a canyon wall. the fox slipped in through a small fracture that opened into a chasm. a small mound of materials had been clearly gathered up over a period of time. some appeared as offerings. other just strewn objects that benny deemed relevant to his makeshift altar.

"maria… maria…" benny murmured, tears welling in his eyes as he called upon the woman. it had been too long since he lasted prayed. he was never a religious being. his mother dragged him to the riders church every morning. he knew the scripture they lived by. he was his father's son, though. he didn't think something could be greater than him. that his life was pre-planned by some greater god. maria though... she would give him guidance.

his rebirth.

the fox lowered himself in front of the altar, his forelegs stretched out as he muttered broken latin under his breath. phrases he remembered barely from church. he had been a young boy, his mind couldn't possibly focus on the exact words at the time. he regretted leaving his mothers writings in the cottage. letting it be tarnished by those lawless beasts.
_________________________________________________

the sun began to rise by the time benny emerged from the chasm once more. his body ached. his muscles begged for some actual rest but he couldn't allow himself to sleep now. he was so close to making sense of his dreams... to finding clarity. the warlord took a deep breath and faced the rising sun, returning to the fortress as if nothing had happened.


//tldr;; bennys been having survivors guilt from his past and is having vivid dreams due to it. hes misinterpreting them as visions and messages from his estranged religious figure maria (mother mary renamed)