The horse thundered across hard packed ground, shockwaves sent up its legs, through the saddle, and into Armin's spine. He shifted uncomfortably, peeling Eren's arm away for a moment before realizing he had no stability without it. Then he held it, fearing that if he didn't Eren wouldn't hold him anymore and he would slip off the horse and plummet. He had been helped onto the beast. It could be six feet tall for all he knew, or they were riding along some sort of cliff and he would fall off the edge. Either way would lead to his doom, before he would even get to see the surprise that Eren was so eager to show him.
For some reason, being forced to release him made Eren's grip tighter the second time around. It was a vice, tightening him to death. But the warmth did feel good. The rest of the ride could be painful and jolting, but this he would enjoy. He reached instinctively for the cloth over his eyes, rubbing because the course fabric was incredibly irritating, scratching his sensitive face regardless of whether or not he kept his eyes open. For sake of comfort he kept them closed, even though each peek at the cloth gave him hints of scattered light.
"Comfortable?" Eren asked, his voice bouncing smoothly in accompaniment to the horse's galloping.
"No," Armin replied crossly, digging his fingers into Eren's sleeve. "Why did we have to come on a horse? It smells like sweaty animal, and I can't see anything, and I have no balance. I'm going to fall."
"Stop complaining, grumpy," Eren soothed cheerfully, pinching at Armin's side with the hand that held him. "The sun feels good, right?"
"It's hot. That's why the horse smells so bad."
"Settle down. We're getting close."
The air still reeked of fresh beast sweat, salty and bitter and just a bit piercing. Eren had to have been contributing to the odor, Armin determined eventually. One animal alone could not produce such a briny stench. It was a combination of the mineral-dense secretion boiling in the sun, along with rotting stones and baking leather from the saddle below them. He prayed he did not drastically contribute to the reeking atmosphere.
Alongside the stampede of the creature's four hooves against the earth, he could hear something in the distance that was similar to the crashing of monsters through trees. Eren had assured him before setting out that they would be completely safe, which eliminated that possibility, but then, what else could create a chorus of pounding clashes? A storm of blades being dumped from the sky, to land on cobbled pavement, perhaps, but they were nowhere near civilization. Rustling branches, shaking and breaking against each other, stirring leaves around in a brew of tormented verdure. But it was not quite so earthen. He could hear the wind, but it was not distant and treble as if he were hidden in any sort of shelter, it was as if the gusting breeze surrounded him entirely. He could feel it, too, though he assumed this sensation was more from riding a horse at top speed rather than literally hearing the wind.
The tempest of hoofbeats on solid ground trailed off into softer, duller thuds, and the horse seemed to slow down but bounce more. Eren held tighter to him, synchronizing the pattern in which their bodies rocked in response to the horse's vaulting motion. It was much more comfortable to not bounce against the horse and Eren as if he were dead weight, instead fitting more smoothly into the tempo of man and beast. He could feel Eren tightening the reins, and the springing gait launched them once, twice, three times more before the creature at last came to a steady walk. It plodded on, steps nearly silent aside from a sweeping sound, as if the horse was wading through silk. The thundering rauckus still marched on, and the breeze still swirled about, a sensation entirely new for Armin. Eren was still pleasant, cozy enough to lean back into, and Armin released a small sigh that carried a load of relief.
Eren's arm finally relaxed, still wrapped tenderly around Armin's waist, if only to keep their rocking in the same pacifying pace. Never had Armin truly considered how far one's torso had to sway just to keep the body of the rider attached to the body of the horse, not until he felt the harmonization of his hips to Eren's to the rippling pace of the walking beast. His companion, stinking of brine and horse and old cotton, tensed and relaxed as if his body was rotating to examine their surroundings. "We're nearly there. Still comfortable?"
"Sore," Armin complained, holding onto the horn of the saddle to steady himself. "Where are we going?"
"Nowhere." He could hear the smile in Eren's voice. "It's just someplace I wanted to show you." He fell silent, urging the horse on with a few sharp heels to the beast's flanks, a jolting motion that nearly upset Armin's balance. Eren popped when he kicked, bouncing in the saddle as if a child eager to whip his mount into a canter. Though it did little to aid in Armin's quest to keep his seat, it was, to a certain degree, youthful and sweet, two things that had not suited Eren for many years. Suddenly, Eren's legs straightened, toes bumping Armin's calves. He was leaning back in the saddle, his one hand on the reins tugging back as well, and the compliant beast came to a halt. "Okay. You can take the blindfold off."
At long last Armin brought his hands to the fabric over his eyes, tearing through the knot furiously but unable to bring himself further. He had already lifted the device away from his face, but before light was able to rush into his unaccustomed pupils, he shut his eyes. Uneasiness licked at the corners of his mind, surging gently but rising steadily. Where had Eren brought him?
"Where are we?" he murmured timidly, afraid to admit to his companion just how anxious he had become.
"Want me to describe it to you?" Eren offered, wrapping his other arm around Armin to hold him tightly against his chest. "It's infinite, Armin. Goes on for miles and miles. You can't even see the end. And it's really bright, you wouldn't think so, but it is. It's like it's glowing. God, you can probably smell it. It's really strange. Like salt, but also like living things. It almost looks like a living thing. Open your eyes, Armin, you have to see it."
"It sounds like a monster," Armin vocalized, fearing Eren would scoff, but he had to hear his friend's conformation before he would allow himself to face the creature.
"It's not a monster. It's beautiful. You'll love it, I promise. You just have to open your eyes."
With that, and knowing that teasing would ensue if he didn't man up in a hurry, Armin forced an eye open, then the next. He gaped, unable to contain himself. What was this strange expanse before him? It was a rippling, surging mass of liquid, churning waves of greenish water stirring up those temperamental winds and that strange odor. Rushing currents of foam and fluid lapped at dark sand, and just before the deep chestnut earth came small, rolling dunes of bleached blond powder. The horse stood in a flatter area, pawing restlessly at the insecure terrain and flicking its tail into tall stalks of sparse, burnt grass. Though its terrifying thunder rattled Armin's chest and shocked his heartbeat into irregular pulses, the bubbling waters seemed enticing, and the granular sand had to be at least as soft as Eren's battle-worn hands. "Can-can we get closer?"
Eren nodded, removing his hands from around Armin's waist before sliding off the horse. He led the animal a few steps forward, out of the brittle dried vegetation and into the clouds of bleached sand. The horse seemed to settle down slightly once its flesh was free from prickling grass, and only then did Eren offer his hand to Armin. He took it tentatively, and slipped down into the sand. It sloshed under his feet, pushed aside by his weight and puffing away into little clouds. Under the sturdiness of his boots, the miniscule grains were almost liquid, difficult to walk in and nearly impossible to stand firmly upon. Instinctually he reached for Eren, the only steady thing that would readily accept his hands.
"What do you think?" Eren asked meekly, eyes wide and bright and full of some innocent, burning emotion that Armin could not place.
"Can we take our shoes off?" came Armin's gentle reply. He dug his fingers into the cotton of Eren's salty shirt, and took a step toward him.
"Of course. I'll do it, too. The sand isn't dangerous or anything." Eren eagerly knelt down, tearing the slick leather from his feet before waiting for Armin to do the same. They abandoned the horse, alongside the boots, and waded further into the dry sand, pushing it aside with their toes. Armin left his hand on Eren's shoulder, terrified of falling in front of Eren, showing weakness and frailty even though he was consumed with it.
They reached the water, let it lick eagerly at their toes, and Armin jumped back. The glacial bite of such glittery water caught him unprepared. He reached for Eren with his other hand, holding tight because he was paralyzed by everything. Eren was right, this great body before him was truly infinite, and it was horrifying and magnificent at once. Waves crashed against distant boulders, and being so close left Armin susceptible to the spray of the brine. He wanted to hide behind Eren, let him get drenched by the saliva of the angry ocean, and yet truly he felt a desire to get closer, to stand in the torrential currents and let his body be bashed about by such a force. It was untamed, angry, frighteningly noisy, but then again, so was the boy he gripped so fiercely to.
Eren repeated, his words muffled by salty roars, "What do you think?"
"I love it."