Peace.

The darkness brought silence, solitude. I felt very little, what I did feel I did not comprehend. A warm touch, an embrace, I wasn't sure whether it was against my mind or my soul - I leaned into it regardless, discovering that it was indeed my soul that felt physically comforted by a presence was as yet, unable to define. I thought it was you, returned to me, your warm, fiery soul drying out my own damp, rainy one, your wise words and soothing voice stroking at the anxieties of myself back down to simple murmurings that I could handle with ease. I thought I heard your song, singing to me once more, the way you had sung for my father. I thought I heard his voice again too, the voice that was so much like yours, I could not tell them apart.

But I was wrong.

You were gone.

Suddenly, my darkness was filled, exposed, illuminated by a burning, impending light. I felt my body jump in surprise, but then embrace it- it was familiar to me, a force I had once controlled, a force I had once mastered. The Sun God, I think, and the thought bounces around my head, bringing up images of the Lord in all his splendour, with fire licking at his wings and hooves, his temper scorching the earth and anything else he deemed worthy of turning to ash. He floats before me, and then he changes - his pelt fades, it desaturates to a silver-grey, his mane loses its creamy gleam, his wings vanish and then, a pale web draws itself across his façade. Gold lingers in touches upon him, a splash across his back, and the depths of his eyes. He glows, his form illuminated by the Sun he has summoned.

Another is near, the Sun splayed across her hide, the magic of light and fire and healing coming from her and into me. It fills me up, burning out any remnants of a fever that had stolen my body, clearing my vision even as I blinked away the troubling fog of infection. A pile of fur curls up on my forelegs, which have somehow folded themselves neatly beneath my chest, and I tilt my tiara to view the kitsune. I blink at it, once, twice, reminded of you - your memory is all that keeps me from reacting to it, from fearing it. I recognise it as a bonded, and then I see too, the pale dragon that accompanies the girl, the healer, and I blink again.

The wind picks up around us, and I smile, for once enjoying the cooling benefits it has to offer. I don't know how much time has passed, how long the girl poured her flames into me, how long they have been standing vigil, but as I lift my tiara, I feel whole again. Dizziness doesn't plague me, only hints of fatigue - nothing compared to before, however. It is easy enough now, for me to gently stretch out my stiff imbs and rise - being careful not to hurt or disturb those around me too much.

Then the foggy memories started trickling back into my consciousness.

I looked up, blinking at the cool raindrops that had randomly appeared (I quietly ushered them to still), and saw the devastation that was once where I intended on resting for the night. What was I thinking? I ash myself, as my gaze trickled down to look at the branches scattered over the area. Obviously not much, I answer myself, my gaze finally resting upon the stallion. If it was possible to blush, I would have right then, as I remember coyly stretching my form for him, and his deep, throaty compliment of it. Instead, I smirk, feigning confidence in my previous actions (not all of which I remembered clearly, nor really wanted to). I turn to the young girl who obviously holds my previous rank in my previous homeland, my dark muzzle hoping to touch upon her sunkissed self, my eyes hoping to convey the gratitude I felt before my tones murmured a quiet, genuine "thank you."

I look to the stallion now, and though my instincts scream at me to be wary, I find myself strangely at ease - he has seen me at my worst, at my weakest, and what was his response? To stand as my guard, to do what he could do help me.

I realised, with humbleness, that he probably saved my life.

"And thank you.." I say, as my limbs carry my forth. As I close the proximity to him, another memory, unbidden, flashes before me, one of taste, of strange desires, and I am sincerely happy that blushing is not something we equids are capable of. "I owe you one." My voice is quiet as I pause near him, searching fruitlessly for something to ease the awkwardness that was seemingly inevitable from this strange, curious interaction. "I'm Cirrus." I conclude, not sure what else I could offer, what else I could do to more past this moment. My wings itch for flight, the breeze tingles them, and I think about simply scrambling up through the canopy and flying across the night sky once more, leaving these land-dwellers behind. But something anchored me here, holding me back, asking me to linger a little while longer; and so I did.