The endless night had tossed the last dregs of spirit from the mare and tossed them afar into the blackness. Stumbling through the dark, the mare had attempted to find herself again, to find the light in the darkness and to restore the hope that no longer existed in her heavy heart, but to no avail. In this darkness that consume everything it touched, she was alone. She was lost. And she was completely and utterly hopeless.

Often times her legs would carry her afar whilst her mind was in the clouds, and today was one of those days. She had patrolled the borders of the Foothills only to be washed away by a sea of thoughts and memories and, upon turning East, had stumbled upon a familiar path. Legs blindly leading her onward, the mare had trudged up the winding trail further and further, on wards until her legs ached, her body still painful from the burns that scarred her abdomen and legs. As she moved, the crisp, chilly air cooled the fire that scorched her body, numbing her to the pain. As she air grew denser the higher she walked, the more her ribs billowing in and out, trying to suck in difficult breaths. Yet she did not stop. She did not falter.

Mindlessly, she found herself in the heavenly fields. Eyes gazed out toward the seemingly empty field, tiny dark flowers dotting the long grass, clouds low enough to touch. She stepped forwards, allowing the fog to envelope her body, cooling her wounds and embracing her, soaking her pelt with rain water that was not yet ready to fall. The clouds shifted and danced around her legs as she walked, blurring the landscape as they grew thicker, obscuring her eyes and shielding her from view. maybe this was what she needed. peace and tranquility, and utter loneliness to quell her aching thoughts. To be hidden among the clouds was a comfort somehow, as if some foreign God might be able to touch her, to grant her the strength to go on. As she neared the center of the grasslands, she halted and lowered her body, laying in the sodden grass that was wet with dew and mist. Her teal-grey eyes flickered shut as she sucked in a deep breath, reveling in the scent of sweet dew and crisp, fresh air.

She felt swiftly to sleep, mind exhausted as well as body, her burns soothed by the coolness of the grass. She had not bothered Apollo with her curse, for he had enough on his mind without tending to Artemis every other day. She instead sucked it up and got on with it, yet even one as resolute as the titan needed her pain vanquishing once in a while.

As her mind faded into blackness as thick and as daunting as the darkness that had corrupted the lands, faces danced before. Blurred, yet still recognizable, Tharos lead the way with his lop-sided grin and white mask. Laila came next, blood matting in her dark fur, eyes full of tears and hatred. Apollo with his kind words and healing touch, then Harmony with her playful and spirited demeanor. They all had something they believed in - a reason to fight and to go on living, yet Artemis had none. How could she fight and how could she live when she had no hope to depend upon? She stirred in her sleep as another face moved before her - the figure had her back to the mare. Her pelt was as pale as the moon, a faint glow surrounding her thick, shaggy pelt. A thick plait bunched up her awkwardly long tail.

Mother.

The mare galloped forwards, yet as she did she realized that her legs were long and gangly and she stumbled awkwardly. The world around her seemed bigger somehow, and as she called out her mothers name, a child's voice emerged. She felt so vulnerable and small, so desperate to be beside her mothers hulking, strong side, yet no matter how fast she ran upon those strange, fawn-like legs, she could not reach the mare who stood silently by the lakeside. The mare stepped forwards, a silver hoof dipping gently into the water and causing a faint ripple to spread outwards. The hoof was submerged slowly, tentatively as the young filly called out; "Mother, stop! Don't" The figure did not respond, moving a second leg into the icy depths. As she grew closer, she could see a steamy breath coming from the mares lips. The lakeside suddenly had an icy sheen and the world around her seemed to freeze in motion. Bee's suspended in air over a flower, birds stopped in mid-flight as if in a snap shot, a deer watching quietly in the distance with delicate strands of grass falling from her lips, her body statuesque and unmoving. Yet one thing did more.

The cremello turned slowly as if in slow motion, turning to face her child. The marking upon her face was vivid red, yet it was no simply tattoo. Blood oozed from the wound, staining her moonglow pelt. The rest of her face was blurred, forgotten in time to the foal that raced toward her.

"Mother, stop!"

Slowly, she turned away, ignorant to the panic on the foals face as she stepped into the water, plunging into its icy depths.

The foal dashed forwards, teeth bared and snapping shut but missing the tendrils of plaited mane as the form vanished from view. The stumbled, falling foards after her moth toward the surface of the water, yet she did not sink. The lake froze over the mare and the foal landed with a sharp thus upon the ice, hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled to stand. Her wide eyes stared into the ice, crying and desperate, yet completely unable to do anything as she tried to get one last glimpse of her mothers face.

Under the ice, like tarnished glass, she saw the faceless body of her mother, gaping sockets where he eyes had been staring up through the waters, blood pouring from her markings and tainting the water crimson.

She screamed, throwing her head up as sweat clung to her body. She realized she had been crying, yet as her eyes blinked open she groaned. She was awake. it was a dream. A very vivid dream. panting, she flopped her head back down into the lush grass, chest heaving from the imagined running. It had just been a dream. Nothing more.

The dream only cemented her fears and her hopeless thoughts, yet the Gods seemed to have noticed her desperate presence in the fields. As she gazed blankly at the world, she noticed with a frown that there was a faint light upon the horizon. It was a thin line and barely visibly under the thick fog of the cloud cover, yet it was there. Confused, she continued to watch the light as it rose and, as she raised her head yet again, she realized with a skip of her heavy heart that it was no simply light. No fire, no lamp, no dancing fireflies. The long line of light was the dawn.

Throwing herself to her feet as swiftly as she could, the heavy daft laughed. The laugh was so true, so genuine that she barely realized it was coming from her own lips. As the dawn painted pinks and oranges into the sky she whinnied with joy, the dream a distance shadow that was banished with this new glow of hope that lit the fire in her heart anew. Rearing, she threw out her hooves, feathers heavy with moisture and clinging to her hooves in tangles, before throwing herself forwards in a gallop. She ignored the pain in her sides. Ignored the fear in her heart. it was a new day. A new dawn.

The sun had returned and with it, hope was restored.


OOC - Only join if Artemis already knows you, as she is needing a friend at the moment.

He body throbbed and burned, her chest heaved and with every breath the pain seared, her eyes hurt as the glare from the sun hit eyes that had long since adjusted for darkness - yet she didn't care. None of it mattered. The sun was alive again.

She kicked her heels into the grass, shoulders pumping as four crashing pillars carried her forwards as fast as the titan could go. She whinnied, throwing back her head and wincing slightly as her bundled mane slapped against one of the many burns that marked her legs. As she moved, her eyes caught sight of movement and she turned her head, glimpsing the painted body of a large equine. Going too fast to stop, and not rightly wanting to, she continued onward as the equine turned, kicking up dirt as he fell in line after her.

Missy, wait! Cried the equine, and she found herself beaming as she realized who the blurred face belonged to. She did not falter; she was too absorbed in her gallop, too overjoyed at the sight of the sun and too lost in her own feelings of sudden awe inspiring hope to stop. Yet the patchwork stallion managed to match her pace and she turned to face him, whinnying and ticking out her heels. Yet he was speaking, and it seemed too important to dance around bucking like a child. So she listened, and as she did, slowed her gallop.

I love ya, Missy!

Love.

Her?

She pushed down her ankles, skidding forwards as she dug her heels into the dirt and came to an abrupt stop. Loose strands of hair and her overly long fetlock swamped her eyes and shielded them from view, yet she made no attempt to fix it. Had she heard right? Slowly, she looked up as the stallion slowed also. A gentle wind blew the obscuring cascade away, allowing her to see him properly. He was acting so... so normal, so casual, as if his words had been as meaningless and as pleasant s 'good day to you ma'am', or 'hey, that's a nice patch of grass, may I take a bite?' Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, jaw slack. She must have misheard him, surely.

Clearing her throat, she relaxed, pulling her mouth closed and flicking the hair from her face. "Same, I havn't felt the need to run, but the sight of the sun... I couldn't help myself." She told the stallion, her voice slightly awkward yet trying to recover from her stupid mishearing ears tricking her into thinking he had said something unbelievable.

It wasn't that she had disliked the statement, but rather that she was uncertain anyone would ever love her. The barbarian was raised in solitude, raised to fear stallions (though since coming t Helovia, they had been nothing like the brutes of her homeland) and she was always under the impression that she was, well, strange. True, Tharos never had seemed put off by her demeanor, nor her stocky, messy appearance, but surely he would rather go after some pretty, dainty creature with a perfect pelt and long lashes who would bear him many beautiful children - not this thing with matted fur that was so wild she was forced to tie it up lest it strangle her in her sleep, and an ugly blood stained mark upon her face. She was stupid in even thinking those words had escaped his lips. Stupid. Stupid!

Suddenly, she became acutely aware of her burns, and oddly aware of the hot flush that was just as hot upon her cheeks. "Sorry, I'm distracted. Been... Hearing things, I guess." She told the stallion, turning away from him and gazing up toward the sun as she began to walk to cool off after the race across the meadow. "I really must see Apollo - these wounds are starting to pain me quite unbearably." She told him, her voice slightly hurried, as if distracting herself not only from the mistaken words, but that dream. The blank eye sockets were still vivid in her mind.

It was a bad day.

But at least it was a new day, at last.