Once more you lay on the beach, still in the sand after your meeting with Icarus. The waves are strange. Well, you thought they were waves. Surely that’s what normally hangs out in the ocean. But then… things… things have happened. The waves have morphed into sharks, jumping out of the water and racing towards you with mouths agape. They never seem to reach you, always pulled back into the ocean by the tide that rushes ever outward, but if you were of any mind to move you might have scuttled back a few feet… just in case.

Your bag is stuffed to the brim with locoweed, the seams stretching outwards and the bindings that held the pieces together threatening to break if given the chance. You know your bag, though, and how much it can hold. It will not break, not today.

You’d tried to make it from your patch of locoweed back towards the Falls, back towards your family and your children, but the sand didn’t want to let you go. It swallowed your hooves and pulled you back down- quicksand, you imagined, though there is none in the area. So you gave in to its temptuous call and let your body fall back down into the dirt. It’s better you don’t go home yet anyways, Snowflake would have your head if you came around Thing #1 and Thing #2 as high as you are now.

Of course, the Falls could use some more chaos. You’ve been thinking that a lot lately- your home and your life have been far too boring. Nevertheless- not yet. You’d rather not die at the hooves of your woman when you’ve just managed to get locoweed back into your life. It would be rather a shame, wouldn’t it?

@[Hotaru]

we all look for ways to make the pain go away

What you and your boggart share cannot be called love by any stretch of the imagination- at least not on your side. On most days, you consider her a pest. On the worst of days, you hate her to her very core. On the best, she is but a tool of war. But she? Oh, she loves you. At least, she thinks she does. She has lived her entire life bonded to you, has known nothing but your twisted mind and your drug-fueled thoughts. She has grown under your heavy hand, feeling your mental wrath when she displeases you and living for those moments when she earns your praise.

Stockholm Syndrome. She does not know the word, but she embodies it in the moment that she hears growls in the distance. You are her captor, her punisher, her abuser. You are cruel, sometimes unnecessarily, and you are isolated. You isolated her, made her meek and subservient. Still, for all your drawbacks, she loves you to no end. With her mind as scrambled as yours is by the moon goddess’ quest, the tiny puppy growls become the sounds of a bear approaching. Instinctively, as the mare and her pup crest the hill, the boggart launches an attack.

Rocks from the beach, about four or five, go flying through the air, headed specifically towards the growing pup (who appears to be an adult-sized wolf to stud and his invisible companion). Her concern and the mare’s voice draw you back to consciousness, your draft-sized head rolling up erratically and your massive hooves flailing as you try to right yourself. You haven’t forgotten the quick-sand, but you’re not to be taken lying down. Oxy. she knows your name. Who is she, who is she?

Your eyes flutter, your body flails, but finally you find your brain- barely. With a few more blinks, you realize who it is. “Pastel,” you drawl, your tongue thick in your mouth. Intoxication is like being home, but after too many months of detox and then finally being clean, you forgot how vulnerable it makes you. With massive effort, as the quicksand still swirls around your hooves, you throw your body up until you are standing. “Things changed,” you state to her. You haven’t forgotten. Not her, not the chaos, but for once you have found something more important than your silly whims. “I have Snowflake now.”

Clear? No, not at all, but you’re still wary of the massive wolf that walks at her side. With one ear to Pastel and one ear to her bitch, you feel the quicksand swelling up around your limbs, pulling you down. Shifting slowly to keep yourself from drowning entirely, body swaying and head bobbing from your intoxication, you wonder what comes next.

we all look for ways to make the pain go away

Watch what? you mind sort of wonders as it fights to discern reality from fantasy. The Moon Bitch will pay for what she’s done, in some way or another… perhaps only with your words, as you yell at her, but pay nevertheless. This shit is for the birds. But whatever it was you were supposed to be watching seems to flit away into the distance- new words are falling from her lips. Druggie. Yup, that’s you. Damn proud of it, too. Shifting sideways, lifting your hooves unnecessarily high as you try to free yourself from the imagined quicksand, you listen to the sneak and her she-wolf blather on.

She speaks of chaos that you had imagined once, but put on the backburner. Of plans and secrets, of mysteries and… plots. Domination, discord, disturbance. You offered her more, just to get her on your side, to draw her in… You had forgotten, let it go, let the need for chaos fall to the way-side. Still, she pushes on, taking what you said to heart, looking for the apocalypse that you had promised. You cannot give it to her now. You have a family a consider: Snowflake, T1 and T2. You cannot place them into the throes of war, the panic and screams of bloodshed and destruction, and yet…

Pastel makes an offer, a suggestion, one your ears twitch to hear. You don’t enjoy her speaking of love aloud, you’d rather keep it all a secret, and yet… the temptation is too much, the offer too hard to ignore. You shift forward, warily eyeing the she-wolf at the sneak’s heels, body tremoring as you step forward. You do your best to hold yourself steady, muzzle reaching forward, extending towards her ear if she does not move, eyes looking warily down the beach. You whisper, your rumbling voice managing to drop down sufficiently so that only Pastel might hear what you have to say.

Whispers… and then you withdraw. What will she say to your offer? If she says yes, you may just have a deal.

we all look for ways to make the pain go away