"Sore wa nekoda."

"Nekoda?" frustration fills my voice whenever it lacks the fear I should probably have. It is likely that the animal before my twin and I has preyed upon those like us. Young. Lost. Alone. Colts and fillies are most likely easy pickings for the big cat, but Tora and I are anything but the typical young. Misfortune has warped our views and it has smeared our personalities. So no, I feel no fear towards the predator but I am seething with frustration.

Many have made the mistake of thinking of me as being disabled. But my other senses do more than make up for my lack of sight. I should have heard or smelled the cat's presence. In life I have no chance at being ordinary, so I have no choice but to be extraordinary. If I wish to make a name for myself I cannot slip up as I have just done.

"G'day children. Welcome to Helovia, I am Saffron."

"Baho sa iro," a smirk spreads slowly across my face. It is egged on by the mischievous song that my soul dances to, "Saffron, segur que ets nekoda?" A whisper of a husky laugh follows my words. Laughter sends my head to bobbing in its wake. It has been long since I laughed and despite the almost timid nature of the laughter that comes now it is an all consuming sound. I am like a soul starved of food and then placed in a meadow teaming with life. Overwhelmed and overjoyed all at once, my body had to cope with the feeling in some physical way.

"I am...Tora. We were told we could find a band of well-bred unicorns here. But instead we find a cat?"

My movements still and I hear my own sudden silence in such a loud way. My twin's words echo in my ears drowning out the screaming of my quietness. So freely she had given her name. Tora had hesitated, but not for long enough. Names are knowledge about oneself. Knowledge is power. Power is.. everything. To give someone your name is to give them some measure of power.

"I am," my voice begins as a whisper before gaining its usual tenor ring, "My name is Himitsu." No lips will ever know my birth given name. It has been lost in the seasons of time. On the day that my two extra horns broke through my skin like the first teeth of a babe I had chosen a name for myself. Being completely blind has left me oblivious to my own appearance and my appearance has set me apart from all. Keeping my true name a mystery leaves me with some feeling of having a measure of control over my life. No matter how small. I am the keeper of secrets, Himitsu itself means secret. My name is my purpose, it is my struggle for control; my name is my life.

My ears flicker slightly at the approach of another. I am sullen after giving my name; to give it away always leaves me feeling insecure. There is no worry in me for who may approach. What more of a threat can slink into our presence than that of the big cat? I am indifferent to the stranger's appearance until he speaks.

“Forgive me, Tiger of the Basin, I do not believe I’ve learned your name? Hello, children!”

His voice is warmth that sets my heart turned to winter's chill, towards the glow of summer. The stallion says little but that is all that is needed, for in some inexplicable manner my entire being has attached itself to him. Normally I face whatever direction that pleases me while speaking to another, sometimes I look in their opposite direction just to cause a little confusion, but I turn to fully face the unnamed stallion. It is not in my nature to immediately gravitate towards another being. I wonder what draws me to this one so?

I step to Tora's side to murmur in her ear, "Quin aspecte té ?" Eagerness fills my voice. Surely this stallion is one of the superior herd that we were told of. Does belonging to such a group show on his appearance? Does his coat glow as if he were some celestial being? Is his horn the longer than common unicorns?

"My, but where have you left your mothers?"

Our mother. Where had we left her? Dead. Dear Aki, absent minded as she was she had tried to do right by us. Anger seeps from my young heart towards those who had tried, and succeeded, at doing our mother wrong. From her lips they had called out screams, and whenever those had not satisfied them any longer they had taken her last breath.

"Our mother was taken from us." I need no eyes to picture the beasts that had murdered her, Tora had described them to me in great detail. It was our duty to remember those who had killed with glee but lacked reason. It is our duty to one day make them quiver. To one day rid them of the breath that fills their unworthy lungs. "Killed by those disfigured by feathers and invalids with no horns."


@[Tora] @[Saffron] @[Zikar-Sin]