Cautious onyx hooves moved over a dangerously jagged coastline; swiftly and with cat-like skill Hasovir neared the ocean. The piercing winds travelling down from the northern regions of Frostbreath Steppe cut into Hasovir’s Tallsun seasoned pelt, and while the coolness felt relieving from the burning sun their wicked licks felt like beestings. Salted mist sprayed up from the rising surf, crashing upon the barnacle covered rocks and making Hasovir’s mouth water. He had travelled from far south to escape the blazing heat and was pleased to know his internal compass had led him in accurate direction. Finally landing on solid, level ground he gazed upwards to the mountains’ abrupt vertical incline. Snow touched the very tips of these rock formations and few trees interrupted the trek to the peaks, however Hasovir found it plenty cooling by the coastline.

Sapphire orbits shifted back down to the marine, its gesturing foam scarcely touching the stallion’s daggers and even then Hasovir could sense its deathly cold grip. He sighed at the afternoon’s heat index and continued, the flat ground presenting sharp, jutting boulders that clustered the coastline’s dusky sands. ‘You could end it all right here, Hasssssovir.’ A voice susurrated quietly, but felt like thunder behind his lobe. ‘Listen to the sea’s speech for a moment.’ A different voice, feminine, suggested. He glanced over at the body of water that was on his left and before he could retrieve himself from the act his visionaries lingered. ‘Lissssten.’ The first voice again. Twin pinnacles mimicked his banner, flickering around in every direction as a result of the wild winds. Just as Hasovir was about to speak, he heard a new voice.

It was heavily masked, mumbling in a punitive whisper that he could hardly make out. Unconsciously, he took a step into the shore’s billowing foam clouds that clung to his fetlocks like a light glue. The voice, in response to his step perhaps, got a little louder. Still unable to hear the words exactly, Hasovir took another step. The icy chill affected him not; he was a mere puppet now with three of his four pillars planted in the water. ‘Time…s’close…Haso….it’s time…’ the groveling voice seemed to be coming directly from the middle of the ocean. Insentiently he parted his velvets, “I cannot understand you.” Hasovir’s own voice was torn away from his maw with the help of the gale – his tone merely a whisper itself against the conditions. The great sunlight danced along the water’s ripples and current, blinding him suddenly and causing him to be faint. ‘Hasovir YOU ARE TAKING TOO LONG’ with this brutal voice came a large THUD that he felt in the back of his temple. It was heavy and blunt and soon Hasovir found himself flank deep in the ocean.

Reaching consciousness the stag realized where he was exactly with the ocean’s riptide attempting to drag him in. The voices – whether in his head or in the pit of the deep – were boisterous now, shouting at him, some cheering, and one underlying them all with a manic laugh. The red chestnut stallion inhaled deeply and used his muscle mass to break from the current successfully. Up to his chest now, Hasovir felt confident in his stride only for his back right leg sending an immense pain to his nerves – scraping it against an underwater rock. He yelled out in fury at the voices, at himself, his mental health seemed to be diminishing before his very being. The waves seemed to reflect this madness, treacherous as they were Hasovir managed to make it to concrete ground. Nasal passages flared from the strenuous activity, the stag’s bodice slick with water and the sunlight reflecting brilliantly off of his now sparkling coat.

His flesh crawled with the icy chill from the ocean’s grip leaving Hasovir thankful for the wicked heat today offered. He shook, tendrils flying and then sticking to his nape in dreads, his lion’s tail dragged slowly behind him upheld in a curl at the end. The voices were still rioting and the stallion sought out higher ground now, the farther he stepped away from the shoreline the more muffled they were. In between two outsized boulders was a small tide pool with steam that hovered over its’ surface which suggested to Hasovir that the heat was immense there. He made his way in between them – the size of the space an intimate but spacious area – and the wind was cut immediately. The warm tide pool gave relief to his fetlocks and the intense heat began making his own body steam. The cut from the underwater rock slowly pulsed out a stream of blood that stained the pool like ink. It was numb and therefore irrelevant to the unicorn. He shivered, listeners pinned tightly to his skull as to hopefully keep the voices out and shut his eyes.


@KIANZO