Darkness lingered too deep within his mind. Their voices spoke to him in their raspy style, and if you swear you could hear them speaking, it was like nails on a chalk. Every attempt to block them out was taken a toll on his mind. He wasn't able to think straight anymore. Paranoia plagued him like a virus as every step he took was followed by something unknown moving in the corner of his green eyes. He'd turn to stare, trying to reassure himself it was another soul, only to know it was the cruel trick of his mind. Seconds seemed to be hours, hours were days. And then the days turned into what felt like months. Somewhere he found himself headed to a place cast off from the eyes of others.
The world was blanketed in the light of mid-day, cold winds that signaled the oncoming of winter. Rogue strands of black mane fell from the mass mounted to his neck swept into his line of view, fogging over. His elegant shook about, moving into the air to throw it. Around there was no sign of his disease. They never played with him in the daylight. As horrible as they were, they were his only means of company. And yet they weren't real, and lived within his brain.
Cold sunlight fell in through the openings in the golden canopy, lighting his path. It curved and winded between the trees, and broke the wave of ground foliage. On occasion he caught himself lowering his head down to grab some food as he kept his steady pace. The area was void of other life in this time of day. The Sun was hung in the middle of the blue sky, stating mid-day. Yet the place was void of souls. A smile came across the dapple gray stallion's facade, seeing that was quite well for him. Anti-socialness was a gift to his mind.
Scents soon brought upon his nose, feeling the dizzy state that came to him when in a place visited many times by others. Their smells brought a frown to his face, not disgusted or offended, just bothered by the amount of souls that came here. Time must not be spent too much at this place. Chance of others coming upon him was too much. Blocking away fear that was never appearing, he braced himself for the idea of having a forced conversation with another. Words never came from him, therefore it almost wounded him to speak.
Feeling presences become heavier in this place, he halted himself next to a large tree. Crimson and golden leaves were scattered around his black hooves as he eyed the area. A slight rise was further along in front of him. Seeing it bothered him slightly. Others would be able to come upon him from it, though odds played him unlikely. He had the scent of a different kind, completely unnatural. He smelt like a corpse, and why he never knew why. Somewhere he had the scent become embedded with his body. It wasn't bother him, yet others didn't always take kindly to him unique smell. Maybe he'd get lucky and it'd drive them away. Or if one came across him, wouldn't have much to say to him.
Life played itself as a game of chance like cards. Sometime you win, other times you lose. And if you happen to mess up beyond repair, life comes to hunt you down.
"And here lies the words of a man void of a voice."