Wandering Butterfly (open)

[nessyo]

Psykhe

The thick, night air was still and heavy, broken only by the rare breeze. No moon lit the lands of Amorrak: it was one of it's dark periods, and so the only light was provided mostly by fireflies and other natural sources.

A pinpoint of light was moving slowly across the claiming grounds, however-- or rather, a set of pinpoints. The floating blue orbs were not part of any firefly: they stayed on constantly, a soft glow that illuminated the blue coat they rested on. These blue glow-orbs belonged to a mare called Psyhke, who moved sluggishly, barely lifting her hooves as she picked her way along.

She was not doing so well, if truth were to be told, and it was clear in her movements. She had escaped the camp weeks ago-- or rather, left. When she had gone, there had been nothing left to escape, except for memories and corpses. It had hunger that had motivated her, and even that had been barely enough to get her to leave the familiar place in the fugue-state that had immediately followed the revolt. Since then, she had slowly been 'coming to,' as it were, as if she were waking up from a great sleep-- but what replaced the numbness was bitter fear for her own future. She had been born a slave, and this was literally the first time in her life that she'd ever been alone, forced to fend for herself.

She didn't like it. Whatsmore, she wasn't good at it.

The sounds at night prevented her from sleeping; only during the day, when her glow-bulbs were least noticeable, could she get even so much as a wink of sleep, and what short naps exhaustion forced her to take were not enough. Despite ample grazing, she didn't feel safe enough to eat, and food tasted like sand in her mouth; she only ate when hunger forced her to. It was the same with drinking, and with everything.

Psykhe couldn't keep going this way-- but she knew no alternative, either.

[Henley]

Lalia here ASAP