ArixO ran a raffle to celebrate 1000 watchers. I came in as a runner-up and won a sketch, which I got to pitch ideas for. I had more than a few ideas, but this is one that we ultimately settled on. Upon asking if I had any artists in mind, I put my boyfriend  Spirit.Wolf.'s name up, and here we are! I've also taken the liberty of writing a short story, I hope you enjoy it!

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Walking down a nature path in a rural part of the Desert of Saccharine was the royal visir of the Kingdom of Gildenhorn, a golden desert unicorn by the name of Felair who was seeking time away from the politics of the court. A skilled tactician and revered advisor in his early 20s, he was sought after by most warlords and generals, but the aloof Felair could not care less for the political grandstanding and chest-pounding bravado of it all.

Using his staff as a walking stick he strolled across the glistening white sands, looking up as he thought he'd seen a bird, the leathery wings of a dragon were distinctly silhouetted against the oppressive noon sun. It took him a few moments to recognize that it was his friend Arix, an adventuring sellsword and freeman who had escaped a life of slavery. Upon noticing Felair, the red western dragon swooped down and landed mere feet away, the unicorn shielding his face as the dragon fanned his wings to cool them down a bit before they folded neatly behind him.

"There you are! Must you wander off so far into this gods-forsaken wasteland?" Arix asked teasingly, dusting a bit of the powdery white sand from his arms.

"Perhaps I wander so far as to avoid people. Have you ever considered that, Arix?" the unicorn retorted rhetorically in a droll tone.

"Of course, but does that need to include me too?" Arix asked, resting his hands on his hips.

"I suppose not, but If you've come to fetch me for court, fly back to Gildenhorn and tell them I'm dead," said Felair dismissively with a flourish of his hand.

"I'm here on my own business, actually. Wanted to ask if you'd help me with training. I've taken on a quest that'll see me traversing dangerous new lands and I wish to be prepared," stated Arix matter-of-factly as he folded his arms and looked at Felair expectantly.

"...Arix, you know I detest open combat." Felair exhaled in exasperation.

"I'm not talking about combat, Felair. I was more thinking about environmental training. For example, say I've hurt my wing and can't fly, but I've come to an impassable rockface or fallen in quicksand. The new lands I'm to travel to are jungle and desert, and likely to have these and more to deal with. You could use your earth magics to create an obstacle course for me, to help me train." Arix explained, clearly having put some thought into this.

Felair paused, clearly deep in thought as he considered. It would be easy for him, and he did think it might be fun to try and push Arix to his limits. Nodding subtly to himself with a raised eyebrow, he gripped his staff tightly.

"Very well." he mused, turning his staff upside down and jabbing it into the sand. pulse of magical energy shot down the golden staff into the sand, and the sand underneath Arix's feet liquified and he plunged into the newly-created sucking morass up to his knees.

"Whoa!" the dragon exclaimed, pressing a hand to the quicksand to try and steady himself only for the pit to engulf it too. "You could have warned me!"

"No one ever has any advanced warning when they step into quicksand, it is the most devious death trap nature has devised. You won't see it until it's too late, and even if you have your wings, flapping them will not help you as the capillary force around your legs will have cemented you in its grip. First thing is first, armor is heavy, remove your armor to help you stay afloat."" Felair explained clearly and nonchalantly, like a military drill instructor giving his charges a lesson in reality.

Arix flapped his wings, testing to see if they could be of help, but the sand indeed gripped his tightly and reacted by sucking him down to his waist.

"Come now, Arix. People who die in quicksand are often victims of their own panic. Discipline yourself like the warrior you are, relax, focus on your surroundings, think of your best chances of escape." Felair continued to instruct, not holding back to ensure the training was as authentic as possible.

"Easy for you to say..." Arix grumbled to himself, unclasping his pauldron and tossing it to the edge of the pit, then pressing his palms together meditatively to try and relax. Stopping just under his belly button, Arix realized he'd done it, and began examining his surroundings for anything he could use to pull himself out of the quicksand.

Felair watched with the same aloof expression, but deep down he knew Arix was capable of succeeding at anything if he put his mind to it. This was, however, just the beginning, and this area would be perfect to transform into a training ground...