The even tone of his companion was enough assurance. Fence watched with a turned head as Emerson drew closer to him—let the shivers fade as the appaloosa's side brushed lightly against his own. He felt almost bashful when the unicorn spoke. Emerson was either quite perceptive, or Fence was being more transparent than he thought. His muscles relaxed and his neck bent so that he might chew his black-marked knee errantly. He traced pebbles on the ground with his gaze, doing all he could to look away from the older, bare-necked stallion.

Yes, he was afraid of the dark. And it was no proud thing for a warrior to admit; he wasn't sure he even should call himself such a thing. What was he but an unlucky soul who had fought to survive? Did a hide covered in scars make him a soldier, really, or grant him any true experience? No. He was still just a scared colt, shaking himself awake from a nightmare.

"Just... just some nights," he breathed at last, lifting his head to catch the other stallion's surely wiser gaze. But just as his blue eyes searched for meaning in his companion's, his ears caught the sound of another approaching. With his swiveling body, so moved his focus. From the depths of the territory appeared a darker paint stallion—another unicorn. Fence snorted a faint and distant welcome, and let his black hoof strike the earth to pull him forward.

Intently and carefully, he listened to the stranger. No trespasser, then; no, this was an established member of the herd, likely one that had been there longer than Fence himself. "A pleasure, brother," he offered in kindness, still grasping helplessly in the depths of his murky mind for his own name.

Why was it so hard to find something to call himself? He knew it, the old name, why did it sound so strange to say? He could even remember, almost hazily, how he once would have introduced himself.

Lev Fence at your service; but the ladies call me Fence.

But that felt wrong now. Nervously he looked to Emerson, as if the spotted stallion would know his name. But no, Emerson knew no more than himself. He waited for a few awkward moments, his lips parted and his heart lurching expectantly, until somehow, the name just sort of... fell out. "I am Fence. Lev Fence. And this is Emerson, he seeks shelter among our ranks," he spoke, his eyes lighting up as his gaze hopefully caught the new recruit's. He had said it! Called himself by his own name and somehow, filled a part of a hole.

Still, something felt strange within him. He turned back to Apollo, his expression cordial as he looked over the darker stallion standing amidst the forest night. No, Fence told himself, he was safe. He didn't need to feel strange, he didn't need to feel scared.

He was going to be alright.

—