Perhaps she would have felt the pulsating pain that was radiating through her skull. Perhaps she would have felt the sharp, stabbing feeling of the rocks against her shoulders, her barrel, her haunches. Perhaps she would have realized that she was not watching Rowan die over and over again - that it was all an illusion. But, perhaps that would only be possible if her fears were not so strong.

There was a second, where everything lapsed, and her eyes locked with Quilyan's. She went to speak, but the hold of the magic was taking over again, just as she felt the wind brush and a dark horse fall behind the two equines. It was a vague image of what was happening, but it disappeared and was forgotten quickly. The images in her skull were changing and morphing. In fact, it was horrible. They were getting worse. So much worse that it was her strongest fear that had been presented to her in her brain. But, it didn't seem to be in her mind. No. It seemed real.

So real. Too real. It was as if she were walking through the Edge. Everyone was slaughtered. The blood, the organs. It was all over the place. Intestines hanging in trees, broken feathers and wings, even horse bodies stuck in them. One of them, warped and broken, twisted in ways one shouldn't be twisted was Kaj, and blood was dripping from his chest as he gasped for his last breaths. She screamed, crying out insanely loudly, pleading for Kaj to not be the one stuck in the tree. And, when his eyes opened all she saw was death.

She ran, stumbling over the dead bodies in her wake as she continued to crawl forward, blood splattering across her coat. And then, it was Mirage who she came upon next. Her limbs broken, half as a dragon, half as an equine. Her body writhing in pain as the wound across her stomach showed her ribs and her intestines. She would die of infection, for the wound was too great to heal, especially with the combining of the scales on her lower half. Again, she pleaded for the mare's death to come quickly before continuing to move forward. She had to find Quil. She had to make sure he was fine.

But, alas, more horror found her before she could even come to the pegasus she loved, the only one she loved the way that she had loved Ciro. If he was still there, perhaps she had another chance to find a way to pick up the pieces - to keep moving forward. And so she was screaming for him, begging that he'll appear before her only a little scraped up. That didn't happen, though. No. In fact she saw Kahlua before she saw him. Her statue of a dragon impaling her flesh, her blood all over the glass, splattered against her two greatest creations. Her legs broken, lungs pierced, eyes rolled in the back of her head and she was crying. Her last moments on earth, she was crying. Each breath released a splatter of blood onto the ground before her. And, Res could only rub her maw against her shoulder before continuing to move forward, deeper and deeper into the Edge.

Destrier, was broken and battered, covering in blood with his dragon draped across his chest, wounds all across them no matter what direction and side she looked at. The blood swelling in pools around him, so much that it almost seemed like a lake as it stretched out, combining with the other's blood that was near them.

No. Keep moving! But all she found, draped in trees with feathers across the ground and wings bent in awkward directions was Quil. Some of his intestines were hanging from his stomach and his head was crashed in. She screamed, standing underneath him as she felt his blood coat her flesh, dripping upon her as if it were a shadow. Her hooves kicking desperately at the tree that was holding him, trying to jar him out. She screamed for Quil. She cried. She felt her throat close up, and as he finally fell from heights that he loved the most she forced her way under his broken wing, bones sticking out and jabbing her side. She curled up near him. She curled up and sobbed into his shoulder. Her body was covered in his blood, her tears creating streaks against his own blood. And she pleaded for the Gods to bring him back. She pleaded to not be left alone in this world.

And she stayed there. Trembling, underneath his wing, for eternity. She would not leave his side again. She would not be alone. He said he wouldn't leave her. He promised he would protect her. He promised that he would be there for her. And she would do the same right now. She would not leave the painted stag with the key pendent that was pulsating and radiating heat against his chest. Zarina, a broken doll in between her chest and his shoulder.

Both were dead. Both were gone. And she was forced to live - to go on as if she could actually live a life such as this.

Alone...