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The mist was thick, pale, seemingly endless, and it descended upon him from nowhere. It never ceased to amaze him just how quickly the seasons changed. Not long ago the sun had been a white-hot orb without mercy upon the sky that rendered the air stifling hot and the ground dry as tinder. A few storms later the winds felt cold at night and the light of day had grown paler, so much so that the yellow light of the Diviner's flame was a welcome addition even at noon. Right now Cathun couldn't even say for sure what time of day it was. The fog had a way of scattering the light until it came from all around him and nowhere, as though the drifting droplets themselves were glowing softly.

Just like everything else in this land, it reeked of magic.

If he could the grullo would have left, but no matter what direction he chose it led to the same place. He had lost count of how many times he had returned to the same spot, how many times he had turned away and nearly galloped away for the tingly, pricking, painful sensation that made the hairs on his back stand up.

This time, the spot was occupied. Or perhaps she had been there all along and he had been unable to see her, sense her. Knowing for sure was impossible. All he knew was that instead of turning to run at the sight of a predator his knees locked themselves in place as shudders washed over him, a cold and horrible dread suppressed only by pride and a refusal to make a fool out of himself.

He feared to wolf in the mist, but feared the consequences if he left ahead of time more.

Time passed, or stood still, or ran around itself in circles as he stood there, dark against the white backdrop, veiled and blanketed until the embers falling from coiling tassels hissed and sizzled at the moisture. When the first figure appeared the young stallion flinched, turned and opened his mouth to speak - but something stifled the words on his tongue, bade him not break the silence. Hesitantly he clipped the jaws together again and resorted to a courteous nod instead, one that was soon followed by another, and more still. Bewildered Cathun stared between the gathering horses - horned, winged, plain, of all shapes and sizes and ages - and the wolf, clueless as to what was going on.

Then she spoke, and his attention was diverted to the glimmering, intelligent eyes and the smooth voice, as misty as the surrounding landscape.

Games? A riddle? No way, Cathun just wanted to leave and go, return to Dragon's Throat and get Amaris to explain more about the weather patterns of this land so he could avoid getting stuck in more situations like this.

Ah, but... Wasn't it a really simple riddle? Surely a creature of her apparent wit would be able to come up with something better. Despite himself the long-legged colt reached down to pick up a twig and began scrawling on the ground, creating patterns that seemed random but that apparently made sense to him. Humming to himself he squinted at the patterns - no symbols - and then at the doors, stubbornly suppressing a dire need to freak out every time he gazed upon them.

"Hm, like I thought" he mumbled quietly. Gazing around he waited to see if someone else would raise their voice first, and as a black pegasus proved daring enough Cathun followed suit and took a few cautious, hesitant steps toward the she-wolf, speaking quietly - it seemed inappropriate to raise the voice too much in this place.

"It's the spelling of the words" he breathed, in a single instance revealing his knowledge of a skill that was relatively rare in Helovia. He could read. "The ones able to pass the Green Glass Doors are the things with double letters to their word."

Cathun paused, swallowed as he waited for a reaction, then added hastily; "Can I please go home now?" He hoped he didn't sound as pathetic as he felt. He really wasn't comfortable with all this magic around.

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Seeking ::[Companion: Dragon | Toxic] Wishlist No previous refusals.