The girl spoke, and I felt as if I were hearing an echo of myself. The void, expressionless, monotonous words danced along the Rotunda and to my ears much like the broken fragments of my soul clattered about the dark abyss within me. An absurd giggle rose in my throat at the recognition, though it did not go so far as to vocalise itself. Were there others like me, others so broken and hollow they no longer knew how to live, how to function, how to interact with others in a way that didn't depress the mood or expose the weakness that was their empty, void-filled soul? I wondered if the fracture of my own soul was obvious now, having gotten only worse over time, instead of better - could observers see it upon me at just a glance now?

"Thanks," I murmur quietly in response to her admission, bowing my head as I pull myself further into the domed structure. My eyes catch on something that reflects the light given by my own starry hide, and I blink in surprise at the presence of what I can only assume is a dragon. The light is not strong, and as I test the air I do not detect the scent of ashy breath and smoke, which I usually associate with the reptilian creatures. I give it a small nod too, an acknowledgement, and I hope it does not fry me in my sleep. I am surprised by its presence - I thought they only ever bonded to equines, but perhaps I was wrong. Or perhaps the girl was not entirely unicorn.

Memories flooded forth of another who was not entirely unicorn, though she held a horn upon her brow. It was a fuzzy memory, one I wasn't entirely sure was true - it was the day of my birth, a stormy, wet and torrent occasion, my father's dark shadow watching over me, bellowing a greeting to young horned girl, at least a year my senior, who had come to share in the joy that was his expanding family. She was dark framed and crimson tipped, but her name escaped me. Was there a time when she graced the sands of my former home once, as well? I blinked back the memories, my limbs folding beneath me as I found a pillar to lean against.

I had barely settled before her words came again, this time probing, poking, dissecting at those areas most private and protected. My ears reflexively bow down beneath a layer of thick, dark tresses, though the gesture is likely lost in the darkness of our environment. "Because I am alone," I say simply, almost childishly in response to her first question, but her second I let linger in the air for some time as I chew upon an appropriate answer. Oh, the details I could go into, the stories I could weave - but there was only one thing I felt inclined to say to her, one word that completed it for me, one syllable that defined me and the current state my soul was in for an unknown stretch of time before us.

"No."

the Wind Dancer

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