“Let’s go home Dawn.”

The sedation officially kicks in. His basic mental capacities drift into an active stupor, a sort of numb, living coma that halts the complexities of a cautious youth. He can manage the motor movement, the breathing parts, and the relentless urge to keep pressing forward for no other reason but to do so. But from the Threshold that’s where things started to degrade and fall apart in his little mind. Vague memories fluttered across his placid eyes while he leaned into Yseulte’s warmth. Hesitant at first; a thriving indication of instinct, but as they continue he can’t help himself – his body fails him – his body wants to drift away in its everything but he can’t. The cold is still there gnawing the other side of his body, his legs that have kept him alive thus far.

Stupid…

He didn’t care.

But why? You idiot. You –ucking idiot.

I love you.

He had never cared for anyone that much before. Sentiment, it had infected him the moment they met eyes. As natural, as dull as it was and how easy it had been to lean and accept the consequences of an open heart. What did he feel now? How could it matter, at that moment, as they walked one stride, one length after the other? The sun would set on Setsuna and Dawn would move on. The boy’s childhood rival, friend, family disappeared with each breath, carving out the unpredictable nature of an unfolding life in the land ahead of him.

He didn’t want to. Regardless Setsuna’s ivory features molded against the snow, erasing as time seemed to halt itself. When they neared the Edge Dawn merely fancied the emptiness and allure of the snowfall. For some reason he felt an affinity for it that he couldn’t quite explain or understand.

The sun seemed to wane against the thick cloud cover. The world simply appeared grey, except for the large, tall trees making their presence. Light mist traveled across the floor, methodical almost as their bellies hung from where they crawled. It was hard to comprehend how he had ended up in this place, where they had turned, if at all. From time to time he would forget where the heat was coming from, and every now and then his eyes would glance up for a moment. Thinking, yes, the mare in valley… and then he’d wonder why she was so pretty, and why she had brought him, until he’d figure that’s what most adults do anyway. Always taking him to places, moved him along, ‘yes, this way Dawn. That’s what I told you just a moment ago.’ Or a shove, rough push towards the gates, something that didn’t always have to involve words. Be it a severe glance or the proverbial death glare. Subtle; effective if one valued their life enough. Without one, what was there to fear?

Unhinged, that’s what he was. He could feel it lift off his shoulder from the mists that clouded his mind. Something was changing inside of him, he could feel it, but what exactly? Unhinged was such a broad feeling in itself.

“What will you do with me?” Exhaustion saturated these words, worry shook soundly in between; regardless of how much he wanted to deny it. Dawn was just as vulnerable now than he had ever been. And although his horn had stopped bleeding the day before, its remnants stained his face with a solid almost charcoal line running down his right cheek. The cut, from where it was twisted and hacked off appeared clotted, but just as tender and soft. The need to worry over these circumstances had at last vanished.