I had been graciously accepted into the ranks of the Throat, my need to balance out my wrong doings compelling me to take up the rank of a healer. I was under the watch of Sia, her position as Sun Physician meaning she was my peer, my guide, my teacher. I was to follow her example, to strive to be a great healer just as she was, to be there in other's time of need, when blood is shed and bones are broken. I must be there now, for people I may have never once before spoken to— they must put their faith and trust in me to heal their injuries. That— is a big responsibility. 

"Can't take it, hm? Backing out now? Already letting them down— pitiful." I feel their warmth, sending a shiver down my back as their presence hovers beside me. I turn to my left, their wicked grin settled there as to be expecting, daunting and teasing, pushing and nudging my doubts and insecurity. They chuckle, a thousand demons laughing in a chorus of haunting, eerie laughs— my knees buckle as the sound echoes through, rattling the very core of my existence. I feel like a child, scared of the shadows and dancing figures at the edges of my vision, of my knowledge of crunching bones and tearing flesh— the metallic tang of crimson staining my lips, the feel of a blood soaked grin stretching pridefully over my maw. 

They waltzed so gingerly, so exquisitely, to my side, maniac, toothy grin leaving no cell in my body untouched by overwhelming fear. I halt, freezing up and waiting— listening to their beckoning calls that summon me to the darkness— that call me from my chosen path. "No one wants to put their life in the hands of someone to irresponsible, so unstable. I certainly wouldn't." A distinct clicking of the tongue signals their disapproval of my rank, of the trials that lie before me. "What can you even do? Will your tears of woe seal their wounds? Will your childish cries bring back the dead? What can you— shameful, insignificant you— do for them? Nothing. Give up before you fuck up, before she gives up on you." They motion towards Sia, her champagne figure standing out against the red sands of the Throat. They turn back to me, lightly shaking her head and looking down on me with pity, with false sympathy. I want to cry out that I wouldn't let her down— that I wouldn't let anyone down. But that was a big proclamation to make for someone so small and feeble as I. 

"Do as you wish, but do not say I didn't warn you, mein kleine." I fidget at the nickname, swallowing my fury at them for using that nickname. "You don't deserve to call me that." I spit, turning my attention from the Skinwalker to Sia, raising my head and trotting towards her. 

My fears, my insecurities, my doubts and worries— they all melt away in her presence. She has become a soothing aura to me, a calming figure to be near. And although my anxieties over her feelings— over our relationship— were still mixed and muddled, I had no doubt that she at least did not hate me. 

This also didn't stop me from feeling like I'd intruded on something, something important and secretive that Sia kept hidden. I felt like I'd walked into her private sanctuary, that I'd brought it to ruins and damaged her prized possessions. Some nights I lay away, whispering my apologies— how I regretted flying to the Throat on a whim, how I interrupted the peaceful life she'd been living before I thundered in with calamity nipping at my heels and my childish needs slung over my shoulder. I wanted to whisper my apology, wanted her to know how sorry I felt for intruding on something so special. For that, I am hesitant. 

I spend my time drifting after her, quiet and so painfully aware of where my hooves trod. I feel like a wild storm, swirling and brewing under the flesh and skin, under a cage of brittle bone and useless veins. It was only a matter of time before it all burst, crumbling and crashing and bringing forth chaos in its wake. I could feel it, and I feared it with every cell in my being, I quaked and cowered at the possibility of it breaking from me and crushing all that I— and everyone else— held dear. 

Under Sikeax's demand, I follow her to the mysterious new Isles that were produced from seemingly nothing. I felt my stomach knot up at the idea of her leaving my sight, of flying such a great distance when my wounds were only just beginning to heal. Although the two deep, grossly infected wounds from the unicorn had been healed by Sikeax herself, I still felt phantom aches and pains resonating from the scarring tissue. Each time my wings stretched out I felt the tug of diseased muscle and tissue, screaming in refusal at the unfamiliar feelings. It would be no easy feat, flying across an ocean when I'd barely cleared the bridge between the Throat. 

I pursed my lips and nodded to Sikeax's words, feeling no reassurance in the fact that she would be below me, where I could barely see her and she could not hear my cries if anything were to go wrong. Not until it was too late. She mentions how the Isles would probably be the only place they could find herbs, and that I would be given the task of bringing them back to the Throat. 

Sikeax begins to say more, saying that we would be alone. And as much as I would love to be alone with her— my body trembled. Whether it was from the welling anxiety deep in my gut, the fear that somehow I'd manage to fuck up enough to scare her away forever, or the excitement at the idea of being in a space alone with her, where we couldn't be seen or heard by anyone (save for Goblin, who I rather we not drag along— but alas). Sia finishes the sentence awkwardly, and I had almost forgotten she'd even left it unfinished in the first place. I look at her, assessing her expression to make sure it didn't read as too awkward. I bit my lip, because I almost— almost— grinned like a madman at her words. Almost. I heard Sameira's chiding whispers, telling me to 'make a damn move before I herd you two into a corner and get you to—' I stopped listening there because she got so inherently vulgar that I didn't want to listen. I just nodded my head in silent recognition, like she could see it. 

I nodded now to Sia's directions, casting a long glance in the direction I was supposed to head. Perhaps standing here now, I could barely begin to make out the darkened shape of an island across the ocean, jutting subtly from the horizon so that if I gave it a quick once over, I never would have caught notice of it. For a few minutes I simply stood, listening to the waves as they swallowed up the shore and receded back again, washing away any evidence of Sikeax's footprints. She could simply disappear, washed away with the tides and no one would have any evidence of her. The idea of such sent my brain spiraling into a world of possibilities, tugging and pulling in every direction at all the possible outcomes of such an event. 

With my thoughts out of control, far from my reach, I thunder over the sand and become sky bound, headed for the islands ahead. My wings were made for just this— gusts of salty sea wind carrying me aloft over the foaming blue waves as they curled and crashed over one another. I was certain I would arrive before Sikeax, my speed only increasing as I soared through the scattered clouds. I slipped out of mind and out of body, temporarily giving way to the whispering, calling voices that haunted my head— forgetting everything for a prolonged moment of silence. 

In no time I found myself sweeping over the isles, coming full circle and landing atop the beach that faced the shores of the Throat. There I waited for her, my maiden of the sea— waited for her luminescent azure horn to rise from the tide and bring forth the streamlined champagne body I admire like a masterpiece.