He could feel time like a heartbeat, the seconds pumping in his breast like a reckoning. The luminous mysterious that once seemed so distant and unreal, threatening clarity into presence of a truth entertained not in youth, but only in its passage. He could feel these emotions as if their meaning were weight being lifted from him, knowing that she may feel them and share his burden, as he has come to trust no other. That she should know, that in his heart, look into it- finding there the memory and experience that belonged to her that is a comfort to him now as he feels the tethers loosen and the prospects darken for the continuance of a journey that began not so long ago. And which began again with a faith shaken and strengthened by your convictions, if not for which he might never have been so strong now. As he would cross to face her, and look at her incomplete, hoping that she would forgive him for not making the rest of the journey with her. It would only be then, that he could see her flawless face and know he had been forgiven and redeemed from loneliness.

Gentle foot falls cropped his ears to the sides, cranium still pressed against the wall. His body was tense, his muscles rippled with a sea of uneasy waves as the sound of clacking hooves echoed in his mind. A deep breath rattled his nostrils, obsidian threads streaming over his eyes and face to mask the tears he had shed. He wasn’t looking for company, but as cramped as these caves where he knew it was only a matter of time before someone came to his side in this moment of weeping. A silence coasted over the stallion, as he ripped his head off the cold cave wall; head turning slightly to gaze upon his visitor; her voice echoing off the rocks and into his ears. Quinn, after all that had happened at the falls, had decided to come say a rather intrusive greeting. Ink coated listeners laid back upon the black stallions’ crown, threads mingling over them as they rippled down his husky nape.

He had not forgotten their last meeting, how she poked and prodded about his man hood. Although, he had to had it to her; if someone would have gambled his life, he probably would have done the same. But alas, she was not punching out with obscene statements, just an inquiry on his current mood. Should he even bother telling Quinn his troubled heart is bleeding for the loss of his daughter? The beast doubted the pale faced mare wouldn’t care. Crimson pools awoke, the soft fire-light reflecting off them as he gazed into her crystal visionaries. "The demons took my daughter." His voice deep, mid-toned; broken; eyes closed as he lowered his head to the floor. Biting back tears, the stallion had never felt more alone in this world; and he was standing in a cave full of others. It was all he said to her, afraid to speak anymore should he spill his heart out to this mare. He had to get his head on straight, this darkness had taken Nyx, and casted a shadow of depression upon the beast.

@[Quinn]

As far as the beast knew, there was no getting his daughter back. There was no way of knowing if she even existed in a broken down body. It was natural for the mind to assume the worst of situations; that her silvery skin would be loosely hanging from her bones, flesh rotting beneath it all. A cold numbing shiver coasted down his spine; he couldn’t do it anymore, Imagine her like this, alone in the darkness.

Crimson pools flash open as the touch of her velvet lips traced upon his muzzle. He does not gaze upon the glowing face of the mare, but keeps his eyes upon the dark cavern floor. While his muscles remained frozen in time, his mind wanted to jerk his head away, appalled to be touched by another woman; it was the touch itself that refrained his movements. As much as he hated it, it was soothing, comforting to be touched by another after so many years of being alone.

He couldn’t resist the urge to press his nose against her own, her offer of comfort was redeemed with a glance from his dim crimson pools. She spoke of the wraiths, a cure perhaps the mare was right, and a cure did exist and he had yet to find it. Perhaps he had done wrong, to call upon this mare as he had in front of the others. The stallion retracted his head and raised it back to its normal, noble height.

"I should have turned back." He breathed, his voice empty and void. "I should have turned and fought that wraith, maybe the others… maybe Nyx would be standing here with me." He finished, his voice fading into the blackness as he turned to look at her. "And I’ve failed her again." Lobes lay to their sides as he flashed back to the time when she was a young filly, darting in and out of her mother’s legs, Querida, what would you think of him now?

@[Quinn]

What had become of this once sinful beast? Perhaps as the time goes on and age takes its course, everyone pulls away from the grind stone, turning for the more mature; noble. Crimson visionaries rested upon the pale faced mare that seemed to show actual concern for him. A feint feeling of regret casted over his mind for ever taking a bet with her father; then he was young and arrogant. The mare was an obvious warrior; even those baby-blues couldn’t fool him of that. But as she spoke, a fire seemed to ignite in the demons eyes, what would have happened if he did stay behind? Glancing away, he did his best to bite his tough back behind closed lips. He wasn’t worried about himself anymore; he had lived a life- she had just begun. It should have been him to take that plague into his lungs, not her.

Deep vibrations in his chest echo off the painted walls as he snorted in disagreement. He wasn’t the one that needed saving, and at this point he didn’t think there was a way to save his daughter. Glancing back to the woman, the warrior shook his head lightly. "Is it even possible?" He questioned, twisting his head slightly. ”To cleanse her of these demons? If.." He paused, pinning his ears against his inky skull, swallowing his pride. . "If she is even alive.." He trailed off, letting his voice fall into the shadows. How pathetic he must have looked now. But how would you feel, if everyone you loved was gone, and you had nowhere else to go? The warrior felt totally alone, even in these crowded caves, even with Quinn standing next to him.

Maybe it was that closeness he missed having with another. It had been years since his heart beat skipped with another. His body ached for the touch, the comfort of another. But how could he admit this to anyone, to her without seeming like a needy colt? He sighed softly; tail flicking from side to said upon his massive haunches. He missed the moonlight; he missed the grass beneath his hooves. He missed Querida, but now she was nothing but a memory that lived through Nyx, that now, as far as he knew- was possessed, or worse..

@[Quinn]