That shift to nightmares (open/joining)

[nessyo]

Psykhe

Psykhe was not doing so well.

For a time, it looked like things might begin to improve for the glowing mare; she had been claimed by a friendly mare and taken to a lush paradise-- a positive turn that Psykhe had been quite unprepared to handle. She felt out of place there-- but she also felt full and welcome and good and wonderful and, though those feelings shamed her in a complicated way, she privately and perversely enjoyed it. But as her belly had rounded, she had felt the sudden terrifying urge to give birth in private, worried that her young would be taken from her immediately as it had in the past, and had fled to the ravine where other mares went to have their young too.

It was not easy, and Psykhe had not been sure she would survive the event. When the son was born, she hadn't stood, and had lay on the ground for hours, just breathing. Only his shivering, whining calls brought her to her feet. Back in her daze, she only registered reality enough to see him, to notice him. In the back of her mind, she felt a tentative joy.

They couldn't stay where they were, and so she and her son-- Errol-- had tried to go home, but found that they had no idea where home was. She had fled in a panic, not paying attention to where she was going. Her only hope now was to wander vaguely in that direction, and hope home found her.

That may have been what happened, but it wasn't how she intended.

Traveling was hard on her already weak body, sick as she was from pregnancy, and Errol-- already patient and wise in his youth-- stuck close by her, urging her silently with his comforting presence. Food was scarce, everything was hot, and it didn't improve as she entered a land she didn't recognize: Thrysh. IT smelled like Errol's father, but she wondered if that was not in her head.

It was night when they arrived. Psykhe moved sluggishly, barely lifting her feet, and eventually she stopped alltogether. "I-I need to rest, Errol." she said meekly, and couldn't stop herself from adding the "Please."

Errol paused, looking behind him, worry on his young face. IT didn't suit him, psykhe thought. Those that young shouldn't know worry. "It's cooler at night. We should try to keep moving... But as he approached his mother, he sighed and nudged her with his tiny nose. "But resting isn't a bad idea. I'm tired too." He feigned a yawn, though, in truth, he wasn't that far from needing to rest himself. He was, after all, only a week old. He didn't have the stamina an adult would have.

"After we rest." Psykhe whispered, nuzzling the little unicorn, and marveling that such a good thing had come out of such a bad event.

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[∞ L U C I D I T Y]

Image coming soon

ROMEO

The smell of yet another mare and foal pervaded the nostrils of the huge stallion, his upper lip curling as he turned his head to face the direction of the wind. The smell of mare was familiar and brought back memories to Romeo whilst the smell of a young one was a combination of the mare's and his own scent. Yep, definitely another one.

Heaving a sigh, Romeo turned his great bulk around with a neat pivot on his hindquarters and set off at a brisk trot towards the smell of others. His stride was long and covered much ground, a beautiful extended movement that made his muscles ripple underneath his shiny black and white coat. His wings were tucked close to his sides and his horn glinted dully in the soft moonlight that shone filtered through the huge trees. He often had to veer right off course to dodge one of the humongous ancient trees that created an impenetrable forest. He was mighty proud of his own land and the countless days spent wandering had committed the easiest paths throughout his land to memory.

The black and white brute slowed down his pace to a walk, sniffing cautiously at the air as he searched for the mare and foal. His sensitive ears soon picked up the soft sounds of the mare and foal and he stepped outwards again, readjusting his course slightly.

After we rest,

The softly whispered words reached Romeo's ears as he came upon the small area in which the mare and foal stood. Psykhe still looked exactly as the stallion remembered, although a little more sickly. The summer heat and pregnancy seemed to have taken it's toll on the bright mare.

Blue and brown eyes slowly slid from the mare's tired frame to his son. A healthy colt, Romeo noted with a well-concealed pride. The colt's mane and tail provided some point of interest within the stallion as he eyed it curiously. It didn't seem to flutter or seem soft like his other son's mane, just merely stick there like a white piece of... bone? Releasing a soft snort, Romeo stepped forward on strong legs and held his fine head high, baroque neck arched proudly.

Psykhe, you of all should know that a place that belongs to I is not a place for rest. What brings you back to my side?

Romeo looked down on the mare who seemed so tiny in height compared to himself, before flicking his eyes to his colt. He angled his head and blinked his half blue eyes.

And I see you have born me a healthy son. He looks mighty fine. What have you named him? His cold eyes slid calculatingly over the foal's frame before a grunt rolled out from Romeo's throat and he returned his attention to the pair. A small, cruel half-smile played across his lips as he cocked a back leg, rustling his wings into a more comfortable position - the image of a cool confidence.

[nessyo]

Psykhe

Errol noticed the stranger first; Psykhe had been slipping into a fitful sleep, lulled so far into it by illness and exhaustion that the footsteps echoed in her dreams as ghosts and not as the sign of a real stallion's presence. Only an unexpected nudge awakened her in time to hear Romeo speak, to alert her to his very real, non-dreamed presence. That nudge came from Errol, whose response to the male stranger was alarm: he raised his glowing head and backed up a few steps, right to where his mom was resting.

Perversely, the first thing that Psykhe felt when Romeo spoke was relief. Errol felt uncertainty and dread.

The relief came from her history-- obeying the wills of a superior was not always the most pleasant way of living, but it was certainly easy. Psykhe wished to please, and as a slave, that was basically the goal. And you didn't really have to worry about much except beatings and bad moods. There was much pain, but it was.. simple. And simple could be good, especially when one was so exhausted..

The glowing mare could not miss, however, the calculating expression and cruelty in his smile, as he looked over Errol. That was enough to make her wary of this sort of situation for the first time in her life; where she might be content to accept the easiness of living with him, she wasn't entirely willing to accept what he might do to her son.

But it wasn't like she could get away now-- not with him here, and certainly not with Errol so young and her so weak. Scared and weak, she did what she had been conditioned to: meekly obey. "I suppose..." she started tentatively, uncertain how to answer him. She couldn't well say that she was trying to get to another horse's kingdom. "I suppose it would be fate." She said delicately.

Errol, having never seen his mother be so submissive or so nervous, stayed where he was and returned his father's stare, but his own was less calculating and more wary. In observation, one found truth.

For all her worry about Romeo's intentions, her answer to his question could not come without pride. "Yes. He was born healthy and strong, and has stayed so. His name is Errol."

Errol said nothing, but the cartilage plates which made up his mane-- and which had been standing strait up in alarm up to this point-- began, in his uncertain, to lower. He stood straighter, trying to match the pride in his mother's voice.

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[∞ L U C I D I T Y]

Image coming soon

ROMEO

Romeo watched with blank, dis-interested eyes that rested on the alert colt coolly. He certainly was strong and alert, although seemed like he had grown up too quickly. The black and white stallion took a step forward towards the pair even as the colt stepped back and he grinned at the colt, eyes narrowed and ears flat against his head. Let that show him who his daddy is, Romeo's arrogant voice echoed throughout his own mind.

However, when Psyke woke and she looked at him with open relief Romeo nearly dropped his jaw in shock. A quick recovery was ensured and only a brief flash of shock was revealed on the white and black face... His blue and brown eyes regarded the pair with his usual cool manner and a cocky, confident smile played along his lips.

I suppose it would be fate.

Romeo snorted sarcastically. Fate? Bah! Who would trust themselves with fate? Certainly not a stallion like Romeo who was gifted with the wings of an Angel and the horn of a Devil would be stupid enough to believe in fate. But each to their own... His nostrils flared and a loud rumbling chuckle tumbled out of his jaw. Yes, fate indeed. Composing himself, he did not respond to her comment for he believed that his reaction indeed was enough for the mare to get a reply from.

Yes. He was born healthy and strong, and has stayed so. His name is Errol.

Shuffling his large wings, Romeo tossed his head to rid his eyes of a stray strand of forelock. His long forelock had a tendency to wrap around his horn, a pet hate that had the stallion impatient with his over-long fringe. His dual-coloured gaze rested on his foal before him, peering at Errol critically.

Yes, he will do. He is strong and healthy so will make a fine son. His half-brother is roaming my lands close by so he shall not grow up alone and will develop his skills quickly... The stallion's voice faded off into oblivion as he ended up just talking for the sake of speaking his thoughts out loud. Blinking quickly, Romeo frowned. His thoughts were escaping him quite often. Perhaps the persisting nightmares that plagued his sleep, making him fear the time of rest, were starting to get the better of him..

[nessyo]

Psykhe

Where Psyke might ordinarily be given to notice the slight look of concern that skittered quickly across Romeo's face, as he noticed how much he spoke aloud, she did not see it in this instance: intimidated by this stallion and by the memories she had of him, which were not entirely pleasant, she had elected to more or less hide behind her glowing forelock. it was long and mostly covered her face, and so she let it hang mostly in front of her eyes and carefully looked all places except directly at romeo.

Errol, however, was not being so shy. He sidled to stand nearly in front of his mother, and looked his father carefully in the eye. He still hadn't said anything; he was too busy reading into the situation with eyes and a mind which were wiser then he had any right to be. The poor foal would grow quickly, that much was for certain, and it would be by requirement rather then by choice. A careless childhood would not be his to enjoy.

But he wasn't thinking of that: he was instead focused on the stranger in front of him, the stranger who had sired him. He could tell the tension of the situation already, he could feel his mother's fear, and in his tiny chest he felt the need to defend her, and the conflicted fact that this was his father inspiring such fear. He also saw his father's stance, and understood the arrogance for danger, and realized the need for diplomacy. He was too young and unskilled to juggle it properly, but he made an attempt, and-- hesitation clear on his young face-- elected to speak instead of his mother:

"I have a brother?" The first was an idealistic question, bursting forth hopefully before he could quash it, but his second question was more on-topic with what he had been going for, "What... What skills?"

OOC|
Slowly but surely getting my posts done!

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