How could they kick me out?

The though rang through her skull, playing on repeat, so loud that she couldn't think past the question. There was no answer for her anyway, no reason for her exile. Except her blackouts, her fits, they had said. She was unsafe because of her fits. But she couldn't remember what she'd done, she never could. And so she'd left without a fight, mortified. The looks on their faces - the looks on her parents' faces - shame, horror, even anger, in some cases - the image was burned forever into her mind. She must have done something bad. Something had always been wrong with her, after all, she'd never been quite right. Even as a young filly, she'd had the blackouts. But they thought it would go away, thought she'd be normal. But no, they'd called her a witch and banished her. Forever.

How could they kick me out?

Tamira couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She sank to her knees beneath a towering old oak, huge in diameter, its leaves spreading above her like a canopy against the harsh midday sun that seemed to be blaming her, just like everything else. The tree seemed to be the only thing offering consolation to her. She leaned against it, the bark rough against her dark pelt. She didn't know where she was, how far she'd come. She couldn't say that she cared. She would certainly just get sent away, far away, destined to live alone. Who could want her, after they found out about her fits? Who could want someone broken? No one, Tibalt's voice echoed in her mind. No one wants you here. He was her herd leader. He was supposed to protect her. But she wasn't worth protecting.

How could they kick me out?

Perhaps if she laid long enough beneath the old oak, she would simply become part of the scenery. Tamira looked around sullenly. It wouldn't be so bad to be a tree. After all, you provided shelter and food to the world. Everyone needed you. Everyone wanted you. Looking harder, Tamira decided she'd rather not be grass or flowers. People would step on me, she reasoned, not missing how symbolic this was of her own life. She sighed, gloom settling over her like a blanket of clouds on a rainy day. Perhaps if she laid here, she would simply disappear.

How could they kick me out?

He had made it a point to fly over the threshold every so often, it was good exercise; and lord knew he needed it. With a battle looming over thoughts and the herd readying its boundaries for the loss of a few souls during the weeks ahead, put shortly; things had gotten quite busy lately.

He sort of missed the lolling quiet of the forest and when such nagging thoughts pulled at the soul he was drawn to the closest point. The Threshold. To escape the wear of training for a few meager hours, and enjoy simple nothingness; pleasures he respected and thanked his lord for each and every day.

Muscled wings retracted, landing his bulk softly in an open glade. Wings closed, he moved slowly forward—carefree now that there were no prying eyes to impress. Skull fell forward a few steps later, forelock falling across his face; jaws opened to nibble on the shortened grass that lay below. Snowy tail slithered back and forth, enjoying the scattered sun from a white cloud afternoon.

The sun lay hidden only for a few heartbeats, just before blasting its bright ray’s in-between trees a halfbeat later. He didn’t take notice of the little mare that rested close by, her silence and fore loom still hidden from his observation. Painted back toward her face and head away from her appraisal, the wind blew in her favor and took no pleasure in alerting his senses of a presence for many long moments.

What if my wish came true?

The sound of wings, bigger than those of the simple sparrows that twittered overhead. It interrupted Tamira's dull thoughts, brought her somewhat to her senses. She was not entirely naive about the world - she knew that there were more creatures than her simple form - but she surely didn't know of all the others. And so it was that she saw a Pegasus for the first time. He was a handsome thing, ebony and white alternating in patterns over the whole of his pelt, large white wings blossoming from his side. She was intrigued, her curiosity getting the better of her depression. But he didn't acknowledge her, didn't seem to know she was there.

Am I really invisible?

The femme felt a shock of fear flood her veins. She didn't truly want to disappear. She'd be so lonely. Of course, she was clearly destined to be alone for the rest of her life anyway, since no one could stand being around her when she had her fits, so she supposed she should get used to it. It wouldn't be so bad if she were invisible. She could do this all day, laze beneath the trees and just watch the goings on of the world. She could watch the squirrels in the next tree race each other across branches and down trunks, scatter over the ground and up the next tree, chattering up a storm. She could watch the creatures of this land, Equines, Pegasi, whatever else they may be. And it would be quite peaceful.

Am I truly alone?

But so lonely! She would never last, having to watch, but never participate. After all, she had such dreams for her life. All this passed through the mare's mind as she watched the newcomer, turbulence evident in the still lines of her body. But he did not turn, just continued cropping grass. Tamira realized that she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. It would be so easy - all she had to do was stand and ask to join him. At least then she would know for sure if she had disappeared from the world. And what if she had? She'd had to deal with her lot so far, and she'd survived. She would survive this too.

Do you see me?

Please see me.

Don't make me remember.

A soft breeze drifted through the trees at Tamira's back. Leaves rustled with its passing, and then the mare's flaxen banner. How relaxing a place this was, even as a troubled Equine - and to think that she had been contemplating life as a tree! Well, not that she would have been able to accomplish that little fantasy anyway, not without a miracle. Shape-shifting was not among her few, non-magical skills.

Don't send me away.

As the femme neared the seemingly gentle stallion, his wings flared from his sides slightly, a defensive stance if she'd ever seen one. A momentary, unintentional pause was upon her, a slight hesitance bordering on fear, but her soft words seemed to calm him, for his wings folded neatly against his body once more. At his approval, Tamira walked closer, stopping at a respectable distance, but close enough to be considered 'together'. She was about to lower her maw to the lush, green carpet beneath their feet when his question interrupted. "You are a stranger to this land?"

Don't send me away.

The chocolate femme's eyes searched the stallion's briefly, wanting badly to confide the entirety of her situation to another. A blink; long, dark lashes hiding her moment of weakness, and then a more relaxed look to the brute before speaking once more. "Yes, good sir. I'm not sure how far I've traveled, or even what this land is called." A sudden realization. "But I've forgotten my manners!" At this, her voice adopted a slightly scolding tone, for she had been taught that introductions come before all else. "My name is Tamira. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Please don't send me back.

A blessing and a curse.

Or so it seemed that this meeting had become. He was handsome, kind, mannerly, and Tamira was ever so grateful to have met another after days of solitude. The painted stallion's genuine cordiality was a pleasant surprise, as she hadn't expected such from a stranger in a new land. She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Perhaps she had expected a blackout, perhaps she had expected to be immediately shunned. But perhaps she had a few days of serenity. After all, she had just had a fit yesterday. Perhaps she wouldn't run him off immediately.

Just don't come back.

Tamira prayed that her problems would remain far behind her, despite her growing trepidation. In spite of her dark thoughts, a smile crossed her maw at the brute's half bow. What a gentleman! "And I am Midas. The pleasure is mine, dear lady." A pause as the multicolored stallion seemed to survey their surroundings. "As to where you are, this land in its entirety is called Helovia." One of his hooves tapped lightly against the ground as he continued, "The territory we stand upon is named 'Threshold'." Tamira looked around, and then softly spoke. "Helovia." The word was laced with a thoughtfulness and wonder as the chocolate femme seemed to test the name, roll it off her tongue.

A new home, perhaps?

Midas spoke again. "My home lies beyond here, into the desert oasis, Dragon Throat." Tamira's gaze drifted back to the steed's golden orbs. They were something else. The mare had never seen eyes that seemed to glow as his did. It was entrancing. And then Midas's eyes were hidden momentarily. "Allow me to be the first to extend invitation." The femme smiled in response to both the stallion's smile and his invitation. What kindess! You won't last, a small voice in the back of her mind hissed, You'll have a blackout and they'll make you leave, too! Again the pained look returned to her orbs, which she quickly veiled by glancing down. Tossing her head slightly, cream banner flipping gracefully to the other side of her nape, she banished the thoughts. Again under control, she met Midas' gaze once more. "This Dragon's Throat that you speak of sounds like an interesting place. I would be much obliged to accept your invitation."

Just don't be a mistake!

[OOC | Would you like to start a thread in the Throat, or shall I? :3]