------" Tares "------

Exhaustion wraps itself around me like a warm and heavy blanket, leaving me at rest as I hide in a rocky crag in the north of the Dragon's Throat on a night lacking stars. I stand only lazily- my tail and one of my forehooves are draped over rocks, and my knees are all partially bent as I decline slowly towards the ground. There is a soft thud and a falling of a pebble into a ravine as my form lands roughly against stone, but I don't feel it as any sort of pain. The night is humid, and the breezes, which are few and far between, bring only slight relief from the heat. It is the shadow that offers me the most comfort- the shadow that hides me from the pale moonlight.

A leg that has strayed from the line of darkness catches the moon's gleam, and the scars that line it seem to glow in comparison to the night's depth of black. I pull it back and rest my head against it- I long for the company of at the very least Arbutus. I know now that I need company more than the steady burble of the river below and the uneven sounds of the night. But it is worse to know what you have lived without- I wish I had never learned.

My thin black mane falls across my vision in sheets, and so it is my ears that pick up on Arbutus' approach. Flaming, he flies up from the ravine, with the pebble I had nudged grasped firmly in his claws. I snort in acknowledgement and clear away some of the hair that obstructs my view so that I can watch his antics. As forlorn as I am, he never ceases to make me smile.

I forget the troubles of the world and my life as he scratches and bites at the pebble, trying to break it open and find a prize. It slips away and lands at my hoof, but when I nudge it towards him he returns it within seconds. The glow of his fiery form reflects off of my features and brings a pale light to rest between us. At night and in the sky he is my guide, with shining black eyes that reflect his own flames an enthusiasm. I kick the pebble again and it is once more returned.

As amusing as the game is, I can't help but think of my encounter with Aure several days prior. She was so unexpectedly wise, especially for one who had forgotten all that she had ever learned. I wonder if that sort of kindness is inherent and cannot be lost even with one's memory. I long for something as concrete as that- a rock in my life, someone or thing to lean on.

But if Aure could have been that, I flew away from her and left her behind. I doubt I've begun a strong foundation there. Arbutus, still fascinated by the pebble, tosses it up with his beak and catches it. His lights dance across the stone walls and of the ravine, and I view his childlike innocence with envy. Why had I never reclaimed that joy? What had ever stopped me but myself?