I was broken. That much was evident. I didn't have my words. I didn't have my facade. In fact, I couldn't put up the facade that I wanted anymore even if I tried. I was definitely weaker and my mind had too many opportunities to float around with the multiple images of death. The multiple avenues that my mind could take the death of my hawk was killing me.

The flames that sprouted from my hooves and hair were melding before my vision. Bright flames were forming in yellows and oranges. Defined flames turning into piles and circles of the colours. And, as my frame collapses in one of the darker corners of the cavern I allow my body to try and squeeze into one ball. My back, if one looks closely, allows someone to easily see the depression in the middle that looks out of place, especially with the flames from my hair and tail lighting up the depression even more than the sunlight would have. Simply more proof that I was broken. Already, I was physically broken from years of abuse. And my aging body now couldn't handle just what my immortal one could. I was far more desperate for some kind of connection than I had been before. But physical scared me - afraid every touch would be something that would allow for me to be broken in half or bruised up even more than before. Emotional couldn't happen because I couldn't speak with anyone. The closest to a connection I had come had been with Alleo, and I had let him know I was going into the next cavern so the didn't panic - basically signed to him not to follow. I needed to be alone. He didn't need to see me break down yet again. I knew that much.

My eyes were trained on the flames at my feet, watching as they began to form into the shape of a hawk. Each flame burning at the creature that was now crying and screaming in my head. Feathers beginning to fall as they were licking with flames. I couldn't figure out if the image was real or not, but I was starting to have a panic attack. My body was wracked with sobs. My chest heaving as tears spilled down my face. And then the image is changing. No more fire, but feathers are being pulled from his body and his bones are being broken. The poor creature crying a little bit as he was kicked into a rock. I'm crying more, my mind unable to take the option of the defenseless bird being completely broken. Then the image switched again. His frame flickering, as if he were an illusion. The flickering getting faster, more common, and then he is gone. My hawk has completely vanished into thin air.

And I'm crying. I'm broken and I'm crying. I can't even think of a happy memory with my hawk. I can just seem images of his death. I can just see images of my body getting beaten against a tree, shoved into a lake, and my hawk being attacked.I can see all the horrors in front of me, but I can't change them. I hope - no I plead - that no one comes into this cavern and sees the flickering of my hooves and hair in this corner. I can't explain what's wrong. I can't say that I won't panic at a touch. I can't say I can do anything except cry.

It seems as though, whenever I need it the most, that I will not have a way to get the connection with another equine. I'm alone to wallow in the torturing images I've been provided...