Golden eyes glowed at me from below. They could have been predator's eyes, and I wondered sleepily if I was about to be ambushed by some cat. I shivered, though the night was warm. Bruises still ached my body from my recent scuffles, and my face was still a bit messed up. The stench of blood was something I had grown so used to, I barely noticed it any more. Maybe it was infection, maybe fever, (maybe both), that let me see a strange, golden and silver creature below, looking at me, as if sizing me up. I felt like shouting at it, like challenging it, like taunting it into coming up here and having a go at me.

Instead, I curled my crown down into my chest, hiding my teary eyes behind the fold of my wing, ignoring it, almost inviting it to climb up here and take me while I (try to) sleep. But it didn't. Instead, a voice floats up to my audits, saying something about safety and being on the ground. I scoff at him, unable to continue my front of ignoring the world, peering over the fold of my wing to look down and reassess exactly what it was that was addressing me. The figure of a stallion, equine, stood out more clearly now, as I blinked back the tears and sweat that fogged my vision earlier.

I leaned over slightly, moving to stand again, ignoring the protests of the branch. "I can sleep wherever the f-" I don't get to finish my sentence straight away.

My eyes widen, as suddenly, I feel myself drop down a foot in height. My wings open, and I brace myself. "Fuck." It's more of an utterance, an acknowledgement of the dire situation I was in moments before that situation unfolded.

Wind stirred, gusts of it billowing upwards around me. But it was too little, too late. With another resounding crack!, I found myself flailing like a drunk, stunned starry pigeon down, down, onto the ground.

A deep grunt vibrated in my chest, as the wind settled again suddenly. Dirt and dust stuck to my sweaty hide. Somehow, I managed not to land on the stallion who was nearby, though I didn't know what had happened with the branch. With a groan I roll off my side, gingerly testing each appendage, gladly finding nothing aching much more than it was before. My sharp eyes then peer around, locating the stallion. Anger rolls off me, steam rising from my hide as my breaths become deep and more forced. I scowl at him, annoyed at myself - until suddenly.

I laugh.

Maybe it was the fever. But I couldn't help it, couldn't control the gasping laughter that rolled out of my throat in waves, bowing my tiara down as tears flooded my eyes - whether they were from the current laughter or the previous sorrow, I would never know.

---

@[Lace]

It shook my frame. The laughter shuddered through me, uncontrolled, uncontained. It came out in gasps, and I knew it was bordering on that crazy kind of state of mind, that one where I am simply swallowed by the impossible hilarity of any given situation - currently, my falling from a tree seems to be hilarious enough. The motion hurts, my aching ribs and bones complain about it and yet continue to vibrate as the violent laughter refuses to cease.

Something presses against my cheek, and I lean into it, comforted by its touch. Without opening my eyes, without actually acknowledging anything going on around me, I pretend that it is my father, returned from the dead, comforting me as I cry over a skinned knee from my latest failed attempt at landing. The warm breath cascaded down the curves of my façade, the soft, plush muzzle wiped away the tears that stained my cheeks. I let the moment happen, I clung to it, for once not pushing away the chance at intimacy but instead finding myself craving it, yearning for it, begging for it. I make to move myself closer, still blind, letting the tears seal my eyelids shut, letting the masculine, muscular, musky form fill that gaping hole within me.

And for a moment, I am allowed to forget that you are not here, allowed to let you go, to find solace in the embrace of a complete stranger.

Then, of course, I remember, that he is indeed, a complete stranger. Through the fog of a fever, I open my eyes again, eyelashes fluttering against the thick nape of the steed. Though I know he spoke earlier, it isn't until now that his words register; Does it hurt? I pull away, gingerly taking my steps, my posture hunched and bracing, though not just from the physical burden of injuries I carry. The fracture within me has opened up again, revealing your absence, screaming it at me, like it has since the day you left me. I shiver, though sweat coats my hide. The fever that rattles my frame makes the surrounding summery night feel cold, so hot is my body temperature comparatively.

The laughter has stopped, having died off sometime between when the stallion first reached out to me and when I then leaned into him. Instead, a deep, shaky sigh fills my lungs, and on its exhale, I open my eyes once more, blinking back the salty crust that has sealed them shut. "You have no idea." I say, not knowing whether I was talking about physical or metaphysical pain, both of which were causing me grief at the moment.

My eyes trail towards his own again. An odd smile curves my lips as his golden gaze reflects the starry pattern of my own hide. "The stars are in your eyes." I comment quietly, hardly aware of the oddity behind my words. The fever has fogged my vision, it has made my body hotter than a sauna, and now it has invaded my mind.

The Sun God lied. I was still lost.

---

@[Lace]

I stare, lost, helpless, into the stranger's gaze. The eyes that peer back at me are a muted gold, a hue that is probably like liquid fire when the Sun fills them with his light. But now they are desaturated in the dapplely moonlight, and reflecting the stars which glow softly upon my own coat. I peer into them, willing myself to fall deep, deeper into them, to find myself in there, to find something in there that might fix the broken shell of a pegasus I have become.

I shiver, cold, though I know the night to be hot and my skin hotter.

Lace, the name echoes in my mind, and I realise that before I mentioned the stars in his eyes, he has told me his name. My gaze refocuses hazily, and I see beneath the strands of pale forelock that decorate his crown, there begins the lines of a web, which stretch down the ridge of his nose and split into the likeness of a true spider's artwork. I reach out gingerly with my maw, my whiskered muzzle aiming to tickle the lines of the web, my lips yearning to taste his skin - though for what reason, I could not tell you.

He mentions the stars again, and I pull away, amusement burning behind my eyes as a smile lifts the edges of my mouth. "Do you like them?" I ask suddenly, wanting to know what his thoughts were on the matter of my appearance - it didn't matter that my appearance was rather lacklustre at the moment, coated with sweat, and with steam rising from my rump, I still felt compelled to arch my nape and bend in such a way that displayed my bodice for him to admire.

Then, quite suddenly, there is a Sun amongst us.

I blink, surprised at the sudden appearance of a fiery orb, the likes of which I usually associate with daytime or the presence of the God himself. As my eyes adjust, I see the gold lining Lace's broad back, and again, I feel compelled to reach out, to touch it, to taste it. Even I, in my fevered state, could appreciate the warmth this mini sun beams out, and beneath its glow I stretch out appreciatively, mimicking a feline who is just waking up, leaning back on my haunches and stretching my forelegs as far forward as they could reach.

When I rise to my normal height again, it feels like the world is tilting - or perhaps I was swaying. I smile, an eerie, comforting smile, at the stallion, and say softly, "I'll be your starlight if you'll be my Sun~".

Then everything goes black.

---

@[Lace] @[Tandavi]

Peace.

The darkness brought silence, solitude. I felt very little, what I did feel I did not comprehend. A warm touch, an embrace, I wasn't sure whether it was against my mind or my soul - I leaned into it regardless, discovering that it was indeed my soul that felt physically comforted by a presence was as yet, unable to define. I thought it was you, returned to me, your warm, fiery soul drying out my own damp, rainy one, your wise words and soothing voice stroking at the anxieties of myself back down to simple murmurings that I could handle with ease. I thought I heard your song, singing to me once more, the way you had sung for my father. I thought I heard his voice again too, the voice that was so much like yours, I could not tell them apart.

But I was wrong.

You were gone.

Suddenly, my darkness was filled, exposed, illuminated by a burning, impending light. I felt my body jump in surprise, but then embrace it- it was familiar to me, a force I had once controlled, a force I had once mastered. The Sun God, I think, and the thought bounces around my head, bringing up images of the Lord in all his splendour, with fire licking at his wings and hooves, his temper scorching the earth and anything else he deemed worthy of turning to ash. He floats before me, and then he changes - his pelt fades, it desaturates to a silver-grey, his mane loses its creamy gleam, his wings vanish and then, a pale web draws itself across his façade. Gold lingers in touches upon him, a splash across his back, and the depths of his eyes. He glows, his form illuminated by the Sun he has summoned.

Another is near, the Sun splayed across her hide, the magic of light and fire and healing coming from her and into me. It fills me up, burning out any remnants of a fever that had stolen my body, clearing my vision even as I blinked away the troubling fog of infection. A pile of fur curls up on my forelegs, which have somehow folded themselves neatly beneath my chest, and I tilt my tiara to view the kitsune. I blink at it, once, twice, reminded of you - your memory is all that keeps me from reacting to it, from fearing it. I recognise it as a bonded, and then I see too, the pale dragon that accompanies the girl, the healer, and I blink again.

The wind picks up around us, and I smile, for once enjoying the cooling benefits it has to offer. I don't know how much time has passed, how long the girl poured her flames into me, how long they have been standing vigil, but as I lift my tiara, I feel whole again. Dizziness doesn't plague me, only hints of fatigue - nothing compared to before, however. It is easy enough now, for me to gently stretch out my stiff imbs and rise - being careful not to hurt or disturb those around me too much.

Then the foggy memories started trickling back into my consciousness.

I looked up, blinking at the cool raindrops that had randomly appeared (I quietly ushered them to still), and saw the devastation that was once where I intended on resting for the night. What was I thinking? I ash myself, as my gaze trickled down to look at the branches scattered over the area. Obviously not much, I answer myself, my gaze finally resting upon the stallion. If it was possible to blush, I would have right then, as I remember coyly stretching my form for him, and his deep, throaty compliment of it. Instead, I smirk, feigning confidence in my previous actions (not all of which I remembered clearly, nor really wanted to). I turn to the young girl who obviously holds my previous rank in my previous homeland, my dark muzzle hoping to touch upon her sunkissed self, my eyes hoping to convey the gratitude I felt before my tones murmured a quiet, genuine "thank you."

I look to the stallion now, and though my instincts scream at me to be wary, I find myself strangely at ease - he has seen me at my worst, at my weakest, and what was his response? To stand as my guard, to do what he could do help me.

I realised, with humbleness, that he probably saved my life.

"And thank you.." I say, as my limbs carry my forth. As I close the proximity to him, another memory, unbidden, flashes before me, one of taste, of strange desires, and I am sincerely happy that blushing is not something we equids are capable of. "I owe you one." My voice is quiet as I pause near him, searching fruitlessly for something to ease the awkwardness that was seemingly inevitable from this strange, curious interaction. "I'm Cirrus." I conclude, not sure what else I could offer, what else I could do to more past this moment. My wings itch for flight, the breeze tingles them, and I think about simply scrambling up through the canopy and flying across the night sky once more, leaving these land-dwellers behind. But something anchored me here, holding me back, asking me to linger a little while longer; and so I did.

The girl who held my former position in the Throat departs, with quiet words and an awkward bow sketched by her crimson frame. I smile in her wake, mentally promising to visit her, to thank her again, properly, for her aid. I remember being a healer, using the magic gifted to me upon almost any wayward stranger, healing them to the extent where no infection nor physical ailments troubled their vessels any more, and receiving only words of gratitude.. It was enough at the time, sure, but one soon felt like they were nothing more than the title that their position held, rather then a creature wielding such powers. The fact that I had made myself promise to visit the Throat, to visit this Tandavi was a gesture I'm sure the girl could not fathom, for how could she understand when she knew nothing of the dark past that land held for me? But, a promise was a promise - now I just had to see it through. I would learn as much about the girl as I possibly could, and I would do everything in my power to repay the debt I owed her.

If I owed the girl a debt, then surely I owed the stallion one too. It was his actions that had summoned the girl, at least, that much I could assume through the fact that the pale dragon which perched upon him rump was clearly bonded to him, and the kitsune that had accompanied the girl was bonded to her, yet the dragon had arrived with the girl.. I knew intimately of the bonds that connected such creatures, and I grimaced slightly as the memory washed over me once more, the sense of drifting, lost, within my own dark abyss. But things like present conversation, distraction, relief, life pulled me away from those dark, introverted thoughts, and I had to smile a small smirk at the thought that though you were gone, perhaps there were those who could do for me similar to what you did. Not exactly the same, never exactly the same, for nothing could ever mend a fractured soul, but similar, at least. A superficial covering, a scab over a bleeding wound, it wouldn't last long, unless the scab proved more stubborn then I initially surmised.

The dragon's cool gaze seems to rake over my entire frame, and I bow to her, reverent and duly paying my respects to the companion of what I supposed was a new friend. "What's your name?" I asked the dragon quietly, ignoring for a moment the prodding of the stallion who was her bonded, focussing upon the pale lizard with interest - wondering if there was any way she could see the broken, shattered mess that I was inside. They say the eyes were the windows to one's soul - and mine were currently locked with the dragon - what did she see?

It wasn't something I would get an answer to, probably ever. My attention soon returned to the stallion, my half-grin returning, friendly amusement glittering behind the sharp, electric probe of my eyes. "You did plenty." I say quietly to him, refusing to let him humbly reject my thanks. Though I thought my life no longer worth living (evidenced perhaps by the fact that I kept getting into fights..), the fact that someone, even a complete stranger, thought enough of me to keep the spark of life running through my veins.. It was a strange sensation, one that warred with my current mindset, one that forced me to rethink everything. It wasn't refreshing, nor was it exactly pleasant, but it was there nonetheless, and I would hold this Lace responsible for it. "I rejected a stallion's advances." I say curtly in response to his query. It was the truth, or at least part of it. My first venture back into Helovian borders, and I had ended up baiting myself before a volatile, bulky and drunk steed. "You think I was bad, you should have seen the other guy," I add with a playful wink, relieved to feel the features of my face moving as they should, instead of simply aching as blood pooled behind swollen flesh.

I looked to the small sun that was warming the area, squinting at its brightness against the dark, fanning my wings out from my sides so as to not get too warm. The stars shifted over my hide, as I look from the stallion to the Sun, grinning my half-smile once again at him. "Do you save damsels in distress often?"

the Wind Dancer

As the sensation began, I almost recoiled into myself, folded up and locked away all that I held dear. But it was a gentle, subtle touch, one that stroked in just the right way, and I found myself relaxing to it, welcoming it. It was a torrent that flowed through me then, as I simply revelled in the touch of another's soul upon my own fractured one. It wasn't the same as you, nothing ever would be, but it was familiar, comforting, foreign and yet I found myself wanting to hold onto it forever. Tears burned behind my eyes as I relived all that she saw, though they seemed to dry up once the dragoness withdrew her mystical touch. Fajira, the stallion said, though I could tell it was the dragon who truly spoke. My smile grew deeper as I nodded farewell to her embrace, and I hoped she could read the mixture of strange gratitude and loss that was tumbling through me.

The stallion's reaction to my words amused me. My mouth quirked into a kind smirk, one that held no maliciousness or ill-intent, one that simply conveyed the pleasure it was to be in the company of stallion who was easy to be around - one who knew the boundaries, and respected them, one who seemed to be genuinely good and honest. At least, that was her initial impression, one which he seemed to be holding up as the night wore on. He could have done any number of things to her while she slept off her fever, before Tandavi arrived, and he chose to protect her, to warm her with his own personal Sun, to ensure no harm came to her while she laid prone upon the forest floor.

"Your mate must be very tolerant of all the damsels throwing themselves at you," I spoke quietly, coming to the only logical conclusion I could. Surely a steed as mature and fine as he would be claimed already, surely his heart was governed by another, and that explained why he was so cordial, so generous with his kindness. He was one of those rare stallions, who, after growing through their adolescence and treating anything female like a sex toy, were finally caught and tamed by a single powerful woman, and because eternally unavailable thereafter to all who would think he would protect their hearts and theirs alone. Perhaps I was wrong, but it mattered little either way - he was unavailable to me as any of them were.

"I usually pick better trees," I added, catching the meaning of his glance at the shambles of timber that spread out before us. "But wounds left untreated fester," I spoke matter-of-factly, sadly, but also with a shrug as I wandered amongst the wreckage. "And sometimes, one willingly gives their mind up to the infection." Detached from the very words I was uttering, I lowered my crown and sniffed at the point where the branch broke from its trunk, reflected sadly on its similarity to the inner workings of my mind, my soul, very being.

the Wind Dancer

The stallion laughs, and I wonder what has amused him so. I had made my assumption based on his manners, on his sensible and protective nature - perhaps he had foals of his own, a family who he was used to protecting from harm's way, and I had happened to luck into getting into harm's way in his presence. But then he denied his mate's existence, and I couldn't help the surprised widening of my eyes, the raising of a brow as I considered him for a few more milliseconds than normal. A smile quirked at my lips as he spoke of the queen of hearts, and I wondered, quite genuinely, how he had been overlooked by the flocks of females who surely had noticed him. He was young (in appearance, at least), in the prime of his life, boasting fine health and impeccable manners, a wisdom beyond his years and a bond to a beautiful dragon. I realised I knew nothing more of him though - his history, his desires, whether this was his true nature or simply a faux he paraded to get through life. And then I realised something else - none of it mattered. I liked him, at least, just the part of him I had seen.

It was a foreign thought to me, to think of spending time with a soul that wasn't yours, Sitka, and in your absence besides, and enjoy it. It had been so long since genuine, unrequited happiness had bloomed within me, and not been immediately followed by a wave of unstoppable guilt and smothering regret. I was still shy to admit it, keen to deny it until it had been proven to be successful numerous times, or at least until it happened so often that I no longer felt it was an important thing to notice.

My dull words brought the stallions attention to the fallen branch, the broken trunk, and I watched as he fell into a sort of trance - the one I knew was associated with calling upon magical energy - and I watched in amazement as he proved to be a stallion not only of Suns but Earth too. The scent of new life tingled in my nostrils, fresh and spicy and announcing the promise of new beginnings, second chances, of new things to prove to the world and the determination to succeed no matter what happened. The gesture rocked me a little bit, as its meaning sunk in even before he spoke again, causing a trembling to re-enter my limbs as nerves fire and an emotion I cannot define rushes through me. Was it excitement, or fear? Realisation that I had no excuses, that I had to move on from your death? I will never heal from the hole you left behind in me, Sitka, your absence is as much a part of me as your presence once was. He speaks, and my thoughts are thrust into a vision of the future, of when the branch grew out further, a healthy young suckling supported by its parents trunk, spouting its first leaves, maybe even some small flowers decorated its spindly limbs.

I tear my eyes away from the branch, and bow my crown down to my chest, eyes blinking back the burning of tears that threaten to overflow. I do not wish him to see them, to misconstrue them, for what he has given me was a gift, unbidden and unrequited, and I am not sure I am strong enough to accept it yet. I swallow back the saline liquid, and when I look up again, I try to reward the stallion with a genuine, grateful smile. "Thank you." I say softly, before I reached out to him with my plush muzzle, and blow my warm breath against whichever area it happened to land. I was not healed, not yet, but he had somehow convinced me that I could live on regardless, scarred and forever carrying the weight of my memories with me, but at least, living.

My wings spread out from my sides, and I indicated that it was time for me to leave. I needed movement, despite my tiredness, I needed space - the space of the sky above us would do. "I best find myself another tree," I murmur by his ears gently, clicking a wink over my nearest cerulean eye. As I pulled away from him, I looked to Fajira, bowing my crown to her, the action loaded with meaning I knew she would grasp. A similar expression washed over me as it had Lace just earlier, as I called upon the magic that would not only fill my wings with a robust breeze and give me ample lift for take-off, but also part the canopy above, where my star-kissed hide would rejoin the star-filled sky above.

the Wind Dancer