If the misty stranger had fled, not a single muscle would have twitched in pursuit. As seconds trickled silently by, I began to rethink upon the idea of trickery from light and shadow. My eyes thought they saw movement, perhaps the flick of a dark tail among the filtered pale water? Or perhaps I was just going crazy, and this landscape amplified it. What’s to say that this creature wasn’t a figment of an overactive imagination, born from the wings of constant narrowed thinking over the past few days……

Questions fluttered in, “was I finally falling so deep within the pools of despise that my brain has begun to fantasize about ghosts that resembled the creature I so sought?”

My frown only deepened when Fina flew into sight through the mossy covered trees, curiosity and question coming in her wake through our bond. She was rightly wondering what had so feverously captured my attention and held it for this long.

Sharp avian talons lashed themselves across my spine, her slender body settled there with carnivorous eyes pointed toward the direction I stared. Beak held aloft, and what could be a songlike voice instead rasped out a low hiss.

The ghoul finally seemed to finish contemplating life and death. He came out, drifting from the thicket with dark eyes peering at my phoenix, than turning to judge me. My first instinct was relief, this wasn’t D’art and I certainly hadn’t gone mad.

Features lessened their previous severity and smoothed out, my brows still wrinkled together though; mostly out of wonderance as to who this lad was. I could see him shrink from me, though I had done nothing to provoke such actions. When he spoke, it wasn’t the tone that threw me, but his obvious hesitation, "I didn't mean to be bad," this lad shrank like fearful child.

Finding shreds of compassion for this tree colored stallion, I closed my wings to ease possible anxiety and put on a forced smile, “Well met friend…..you needn’t be fearful of me.” It never once crossed mind that this body would look intimidating; my collar seemed innocent enough, and nobody would be able to tell what magical properties lay within--without seeing the power firsthand

“What is your name?” I ask softly.

The question was harmless enough, plus it offered room for conversation. My gaze followed each sliding movement….taking note that he didn’t shy away from the murky waters. Now that I thought about it, his body seemed to be covered in pallet of this forsaken marsh. Was this land his permanent residence?

Best to ask one question at a time.