Monsters! Monsters in the Basin! No, more like zombies!

Sacre had trembled and mutely followed the rear of a fleeing unicorn, not really caring whose it was or where they were going. He was too caught up in the turmoil of his own thoughts, his two friends turned into hideous creatures. In the heat of the moment he'd lost all grip on reality and everything seemed to move in slow motion, the zombie's attacking and a bay stallion with a ruby horn succumbed to the wraith's will. He had ran, following the retreating party out of the Basin, not even knowing what had happened to the other, spotty stallion. The boy felt alone and scared, like every shadow was watching him and the air was suffocating. At the same time, he felt guilty for leaving and not standing to fight, not honouring the name of his father or making the eyes of his mother proud. A small, trembling coward. That's what he was. His thoughts continued to echo this dreary blackness until his hooves touched something hard that echoed and shiny, blue eyes finally dragged themselves back to the present.

They'd entered some kind of cave that was littered with the scents of many and the eyes of those who had run and finally found refuge. Relief, fear, confusion... The atmosphere was electric with disturbed emotion and Sacre took a long guilty breath and reassured himself that it seemed he was not the only one afraid. What had the faces of these horses seen? Had they seen what he'd seen? The horrors of the night. The dark side of Helovia. In the instant of the attack and the long flee south, Sacre was no longer a foal. He looked young and leggy, but his eyes spoke stories that no colt his age should experience. Yet, it had happened.

They delved further into the cave and came into a room with a crashing waterfall and the smell of moist earth. Sacre didn't see that, he only saw Deimos and the words simply fell from his maw. "Lord Deimos! There's monsters out there! Monsters in the Basin! I've seen them, they took one of our kin and... and I couldn't do anything!" His voice cracked between sobbing and getting the words out, he was ashamed and worried, his young mind struggled to deal with the situation presented before him.

It wasn't until he'd regained a little of his composure that he noticed his audience, more, he noticed his brother and his father. Keeping his eyes on d'Artagnan with uncertainty, the boy moved over to Roux and placed his nose on his shoulder. "Here Roux" smiling through his voice, which had grown softer now as he turned on his father. "Where is mother?"