Could anyone really feel the indecision that was lurking in her bones? She had been the Mason, she had helped craft prisons to keep threats in one place, and yet she felt as though they had served absolutely no purpose now. No purpose except maybe to cage her own soul. She was still here for Alleo - the stag she had barely even seen lately, and it was eating away at her mind and soul. Should she care this much? Should she try this hard?

She hears her name, Ettore confirming it before carefully guiding her down the treacherous, slippery cliffs that she had so willingly placed herself upon. Oh, she was not very intelligent - not at the moment at least. Yet, she didn't care. It did very little to bother her, and she was so prepared to slip and feel pain again. At least it would remind her that she was alive. It seemed selfish, stupid, even reckless, but the uncertainty and pain that circled her skull had made her numb to almost everything lately. Few things brought her back into a realm of usefulness, and it was usually Ettore doing something that only young ones would dare to do - the reckless bravery which she had lost so long ago.

It probably felt like ages for Cera, waiting for her to come to the border, for her steps required that she be slow and mindful of each placement of hoof. Sometimes even having to wait for Ettore to flash her an image of the terrain to be certain that she was seeing it correctly. When she finally pulled out to the border - skin covered in a layer of dew and mist - it took her a moment to even place who had called her name. Alas, when she did her ears perked and a smile crossed her face (a hollow smile, but we will ignore that). Her flesh seemed to tremble, causing some of the water to ripple off of her flesh as she stepped in closer to the stag - not knowing that he was sick, not knowing that touching him might cause her to become infected.

It didn't matter. Someone she considered family was here. "Cera…" she whispered, voice betraying the uncertainty which was lingering as she gathered her thoughts, her composure own damn self. Ettore is the first one to touch Cera, though. He spreads his wings, letting out a gentle chirp and trying to curl up in his mane - to create a nest with someone who seemed to be more put together than his own soul mate. Still, she moves press up against him, eyes closed and chest pressing up against his as she wraps her neck around as much of him as she can. "I'm so glad you're okay," and that's all she can say. Because nothing else is right, and she's not sure what else she can do to make sure that it becomes right.

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@Cera
Poor Rasta is so confused with life