Darkness. It surrounds you, the moon mocking you as she refuses to rise over the frozen forest you call your home, but then… it always surrounds you, in a metaphorical sense. The blackness of your mind presses in around you, suffocating you, threatening you with memories that you’ve tried so hard to bury. Slowly, oh so slowly, they rear their head, dragging themselves from the dungeons you’ve hidden them in and the tombs you’ve buried them in. They dig and claw their way to the surface, gasping for air and room to stretch, and all the while you’re fighting them back down, shaking and sweating with the force it takes to keep them repressed. Kellian, they all whisper, reminding you of her name, daring you to remember. Snowflake, you hiss back silently, attempting to keep your grip on reality.

But a new name, in a voice that is foreign to you, comes while you fight off the delirium tremens and remembrances. Oxy. That name, you know that name… The moon rises, throwing her beam across the ground just as you realize why. That name belongs to you. Blinking away some of the fog that hazes your mind, you awaken from your own personal darkness the way Luna has awakened the dusky forest. You don’t know what he wants, or even who he is, but you respond nevertheless, almost mechanically moving towards the voice in the shadows. Your steps are unsteady, but not as bad as they were a few days ago when Snowflake found you.

You feel almost as dead as your memories as you trudge through the snow, feathers caked with mats of the heavy, white substance. It’s only the golden’s next words that really breathe life into your hulking, damaged body. Your girlfriend? How dare he make a mockery of the relationship you two share! Your rage builds slowly at first, like a snowball just formed. It rolls, collecting snow and size, but the changes are so insignificant that in the beginning there appears to be no progress; then slowly the snowball ceases being so insignificant and its growth becomes explosive. It matures into something formidable and monstrous. Your tipping point? It occurs sometime around the moment you catch sight of the golden.

You’re not even exactly sure how it happens- at first you’re walking and then all of the sudden you’re running. Your massive hooves beat out a steady rhythm (one, two three; one, two three) in the snow as your caramel eyes follow his trotting form. You hate him, your reasons possibly irrational to the rest of the world but perfectly sensible in your own mind. Your can feel the hate in your very bones as you try to draw closer to him. Your body twitches as you run, skin writhing and shaking, but not all due to your detox anymore. You shudder with the abhorrence you feel for this man who has come here to harass you and mock the only beautiful thing in your life. He can criticize you all he likes but Snowflake is something good and special. You will not tolerate any words against her- even something as innocuous as what the golden has said.

Clumsily, as you run, you trip over one of the shrubs that has dared to peak its head out from the blanket of white that shrouds the land. Your response is instantaneous. Your magic wells up within you and you release it without any hesitation. Somehow, in the convoluted maze of your brain, you’ve managed to blame the golden for your stumble and you try to punish him for his insolence. Let him gasp for breath, let his muscles burn with the very effort it takes to remain standing, let his mind grow hazy and his heart gallop within his chest. Let him know what it feels like to die. Those seconds will be little compared to the creeping death you have known- at this point, your body would welcome the gentle embrace of the earth as you close your eyes one final time.

Yet there will be no reprieve for your suffering this moment and you have business to attend to anyway. Your hooves right themselves almost as quickly as they fell and you return to your previous charge, lowering your head and turning out your left shoulder as you think you near the golden beast. He is thick, but you are thicker; he is tall, but you are taller. You will destroy him with your might and wear his hide as a reminder to any other who might dare cross you. He’ll perish beneath your hooves just as Krieger did for being audacious enough to defile your princess. Let pain from the hit come, if it can. You’ll welcome the distraction from your detox anyways.


Words| 800
Post| 1/4
OOC| Dark x Water Magic: Able to burst red blood cells, causing reduced hemoglobin levels therefore signs of anemia and oxygen deprivation. Symptoms include muscle cramping, shortness of breath, increased heart rate, disorientation and fade after 30 seconds.