The moon.

Sia’s eyes cracked open, dazed from a restless slumber to grasp the fine silver edges of the moon. She lifted herself up from the ground, and felt strangely hollow. As if the shifting mirade of ghosts and spectres, the frightful crawl of ambiguity no longer clung to her. Things that were once thought to rule her from the inside out fell deaf and listless.

As if nothing in particular mattered, or cared. Besides the need tangled in her limbs to move, Sia had only the dull drum of her heart to root her back to the reality about her. Indeed, another day awaited somewhere in that eternal shade. With a sharp glance along the borders of the moon she began to move.

She stumbled at first within the Basin, for she had forgotten how to maneuver in the limited light in the presence of many. It was a matter of trusting oneself to step beyond the threshold of the snow, the unseen, to believe that the world held oneself like everything else. No matter, she persisted relentlessly until the stumbling became smooth, and the certainty dragged her further and faster. No later then, was she breaking past the threshold of the Basin and wandering out from its foreign hospitality.

Where was she headed?

To nowhere, to somewhere: until the land gave out and the space lifted her up. Hell did she know? It was 'something to do'. Without knowing how long or when the spectres would be gone, she embraced the complete lack of concern with an open mind. There was no one on the planet who cared, so why should she? Her friends inhabited graves, and their spirits whistled in the wind, where were those fickle strings that had choked her now? Of those composed in the wilds of survival, the fear of living?

I am living now, she proclaimed with a monotonous ring.

The hot breath from her muzzle coated her lips with frost. Her eyes remained half-lidded, while the machine churning her legs and pumping her lungs heated her core. She’d never felt so alive since arriving in Helovia.

At last she had entered the Deep Forest. Daring herself to run faster, weaving between trees, taking sharp turns and spotting fallen logs at the latest of seconds. Exhilerating for a youth who’d once feared what lied behind every trunk and sunken surface. But who knows? Perhaps Sia remained fearful, no longer conscious of its manifestations; living, thriving within its pulls in order to break as much of the suffering as she could. Resist its stings.

The white flicka, painted by the reds that accompanied her red roan finish had finally stopped her chaotic wanderings. Her eyes settled before the large tree ahead of her, as if its presence sucked all who trespassed along its viscinity. It cast a long shadow that had half laid upon Sia, brought upon by the moon glow. And just before it a pool stood so very still, glinting red, tempting as she stood. But she had decided to stay where she was, only as a means to see how long her freedom could truly last for.

[[ooc: for Seele]]