Night had fallen across the land of Helovia. Where the rest of the world had to sleep, so did the sun, and in his mighty place stood the queen of darkness herself, the moon. The bright moonlight shone across the land, illuminating the grass and creatures who called this blessed land home... It was time for the world to sleep, to overcome their physical trials of the previous day and rest to take on what tomorrow would bring. Yet, for one creature, no such peace of mind came to him.

With troubled thoughts the black and white stallion moved through the thick, soft grasses of the Heavenly Fields, his mind troubled and restless. No matter how hard he had tried to lose himself in slumber, the unicorn had been helpless to do anything except toss and turn upon his makeshift bed, nestled protectively in the embrace of a collection of thick pines that also called the Foothills home. Since retaining his magic and living in the trees of the Deep Forest, Apollo had always felt secure and loved in the embrace that the trees offered. Call it habit if you would, or tradition, or simple foolishness, either way; the trees made the stallion feel safe. That was all that mattered.

Yet no matter how safe the trees made him feel, they could do nothing but watch over the medic as he struggled to obtain the blissful unconsciousness that was sleep. He tossed and turned, groaned and grunted, and eventual his restlessness had drawn Apollo out from the trees. He stopped first at the waterfall that cascaded brilliantly through the Foothills for a refreshing drink, dampening his parched throat and dry lips before continuing on. Oh, how his mind raced...

Loneliness plagued him, uncertainty gnawed at him, and self-doubt tormented him. Apollo knew he was being foolish, he knew, but he couldn't help how he felt. He had been named Earth Medic of the Foothills, and in turn, the Grey. It had been a weight lifted off of his shoulders; finally he could help those who needed it instead of cause pain and suffering, or death. The life of a warrior, of an executioner, just wasn't for him, and so when Ophelia and Ktulu had graced him with the title of Medic, well... By the Gods if he hadn't been relieved of his new occupation.

His new title and his new job, however, didn't stop the loneliness that swelled within the confines of his ebony breast. Despite having his family so close, Apollo was filled with a loneliness that came from the lack of companionship. He yearned to be loved and love in return, but honestly... How? How could he attempt something like that when his heart was already stolen by the lovely Phaedra? Seeing her again at the herd meeting had been difficult, for she was as beautiful as she was the day that he had met her in the Threshold.

Yes, he had already admitted his love for her... But she had said nothing of her emotions for him, and that alone was reason for him to worry. Perhaps he was thinking too hard. Perhaps he should just... Let it go. At least for a little while.

It was with these heavy, downtrodden thoughts that Apollo meandered through the Heavenly Fields, his soft, honeyed eyes soaking in the atmosphere around him. The night was still warm, a lingering after effect of the merciless summer sun, but it was a considerable difference from when the sun was actually out. Each step brushed aside the thick grass, the rustling and crunching echoing across the equally empty fields. No one was out tonight, it seemed... And perhaps that was for the best. Apollo was certain that he would be poor company, anyway.

[ooc: I really need to stop with these mopey Apollo threads, but... At least I have an excuse this time. Open for anyone.]

I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill."