Night dipped into the sky with a heavy hand, extending a deep blue shade across every corner of the world, poking small holes into the fabric to allow the faintest twinklings of starlight to flicker through. Waves crashed on the shore and soothed out the last of her thoughts.
The sea at night was different.
Previously, she had warned herself of attending the chapel after dark. A set of laws had to be designed for her life in order to survive, and basking in the infinite world of the sea during the darkest hours brought a certain chill about her spine, much unlike the chills that presently kissed her damp coat. The kind that makes you want to be brave when instinct has taught you your whole life that it's going to kill you when you mess up.
She fell prey at dusk, desperate for some sort of relief. It took in all of her problems and gathered her stressful body up in it's large, warm arms, embracing her and slowly drinking all of her vices.
It never came to be what she had thought it to be. Her own bioluminescence found some sort of purpose in her life, using the light to ignite the surrounding waters in a low glow, expelling fish from hiding places when she passed too close. Size came into advantange at avoiding the obvious threat.
When she felt that she had overstayed her keep, driven out at the sight of distant lightning on the horizon, part of a storm that was cast far out of the prairie of the sea's surface that might strike a land mass in the days ahead. If she'd been younger, then maybe she would of dreamed of what it would be like to see those places.
Now, lying in the cool sand while the remaining water dripped off of her champagne coat into a pool around her, the idea seemed impossible. So many others had poured in from distant places, but the idea of leaving seemed useless. She had built something for herself in the Throat, and to waste it all on something that would kill her in the end, emptying and alone and pleading something that might of fed into it...
Well, it wasn't worth it.
The mare tosses to her side, groaning softly as wet sand clings to her. The sensation left an annoyed feeling across her skin, rubbing inbetween the hairs of coat, grinding and embedding itself deeper and deeper.
Why do the better things in life have to come with something horrible after them?
Her complaint sounds through her mind and blocks out the once deafening sound of two very different worlds crashing into one another with brute force.

@[Amara]

The silence was deafening, roaring through her ears. Tensing her eyes shut tighter, her cups swivel about. Hobgoblin was a new, unique experience, and while she had mostly been eager to learn about all there was to know about bonding, the effects had it's downfall.
They were polar opposites to one another in personality.
Their dual descent into the water was met with some annoyance and fear on his part, something that she hadn't expected to rise from him. Convincing him took time, and when she did get him into the water and comfortable, encouraging him to morph his body into something he might like, filling his mind with ideas and images of creatures she'd seen in the past.
He took up his life in a small, yellow octopus, decorated in blue rings, trailing her with curiosity. A series of morphs left her intrigued, watching silently at each of his new secrets. Why would he, of all the companions she might of recieved in her life, have to be the strangest of them all?
Upon leaving the waters, she struggled with his stubborn ways, trying every form of communication they could strike between each other to her advantage. Use of force might of been helpful towards the end, but damaging the young life would be the death of her. Healers do not kill, and to wound or worse, murder, her own companion wrote itself down in an unknown holy book or legend as a sin.
One does not kill brethren.
She allows him to stay, resting on the sands and drying herself as he floods her with images of his new world. The simplicity of his mind is something she doubts will last. Later on, her personality would most likely inflict harsh, cruel things upon, forcing him to drink the toxins of depression and other emotions that the youth should be spared from.
Sleep almost sets in, pining mentally for him to return to her side. Like a mother who worries as of the every whereabouts of her offspring, she constantly asks, sending images of the beach and the stars, offering him the emotion of loneliness.
Finally, it pays off. He comes to her slowly, a child with dwindling time left to play, answering the calls of a worried mother who only wishes to make sure her child is safe.
Along the way, they are both cut off from one another: Hobgoblin through rage, Sikeax through terror and confusion.
She tosses in the sand, flailing madly while anger and absolute hatred fires through their fresh bond like bullets through meat. Sand flies as she struggles to find her legs, crying outwards to her child.
Hobgoblin, left with his attacker, does only want instinct tells him to do, fighting and attempting to make bites that bring no change in the issue. Every incision that he tries to make into the moist skin is useless with venom that his form is too young, too different to produce.
Whoever it is that causes the trouble, it seems to cease with a low bark, barely audible in the mare's ears. Rage ticks through her veins with slow, hot lava, fueled by her companion's endless tries at self defense.
Amara. Of all the ones that could of come to upset him, it had to be her best friend. She comes to champagne mare with him in tow, clinging to her leg with vengenance. A wave of calm and affection splits between the pair, waging wars and aggressive battles over whose emotions would win over.
While Sikeax was happy to see the Pegasus again, it didn't go over the fact that there were other things to take care of. The muzzle pressed into her side is answered with a soft nicker, purring from her lips in a loving, soothing tone.
Her head sweeps down to the foreleg, placing itself within short reach of the Rougarou. "Would you please let go? You need to meet Amara and Sameira; they're important." Suction cups release and eight short legs extend themselves outwards, gathering into a single mass to form a snake. She pulls herself at a hiss, unsure if it was directed towards her or Amara.
Either way, she wasn't taking chances with him.
Sighing in tired tone, sky blue eyes connect with gold ones, smiling with nothing but a thin line that changes the styling of her lips. Against all of the recent events, at least there was something that could bring relief to her heart.
"The Falls was invaded by the Basin and Edge. Some of the wounded showed up at the borders, and after that, I wandered about to see the damages. Along the way," She motions towards Hobgoblin, who has changed himself into a small, black wolf pup in the presence of Sameira. "I met Hobgoblin." The mention of his name brings only a slight amount of attention towards the mares.
"I should of said something, but you can be rather sure that all of this was fairly sudden." Her muzzle reaches for the chestnut's mane, searching for a lock to drag down while Sikeax pulls herself back to the sand. "Where have you been?"
Worry heavy with the thought of Amara hadn't crossed her mind during the time since she had last seen her friend, having been weighed down with other things in life. She resettles herself within the sand, watching the winged mare with tired eyes.
For once, there was the possible chance to relax with her best friend as they had in the past without tears or screams, something normal.

@[Amara]

Her eyes never leave the Rougarou as he breaks free, changing his shape and slithering towards her embrace. He coils about one of her front legs, watching with a hateful, stone cold gaze directed towards Amara. The feeling of scales brushing against her damp skin brings some discomfort to the hybrid. Like everything else that he came with, it would take many moons, if not seasons, to accept all of the gifts bestoyed upon her by the winter, fog-shielded wolf.
Accepting a new soul that intertwined desperate fingers into her hand, blending and bleeding into her very existance, well... It wasn't supposed to be an overnight thing. Her view towards it was almost sacred, and she wasn't about to invade the private temples built by the shared bodies and minds of both companion and horse.
If anything, she would take time on her own personal basis to abandon useless things she once had done to devote them towards him.
"Hm?" The gentle hum fills their area without source, offering all of her attention towards her love friend. Blue eyes move down to him, studying how he changes to mimic Sameira. A series of yips and growls roar from the tunnel of his throat towards the larger dog. What even was Hobgoblin?
"Oh, I'm not sure. Remember when we were children, long before the world was dark and evil, when we could be pure and innocent, laugh and play without the fear of something we couldn't understand or battle, that Sameira was only with us in the form of a small egg? He came like that. I was given him, and after some time, he hatched and came out as he was." The boy is oblivious to them at this point. He never escapes her eyes, bounding about with Sameira, filling Sikeax's heart with a foreign sense of anger and joy, mixed together in the young boy's mind.
"I think it's best we not que-" Amara is not with her when she looks off, the winged's eyes locked off into some distant destination or object, something that she couldn't pull from Amara's mind without feeling that she had gone too far. "Amara?"
A little too pitiful cries her worried voice. It extends, no, reaches out towards her best friend with the hopes that she has not said something wrong.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" She whispers out to her in a whimper, begging with Gods she never really connected to or cared to pray to that something was alright. Emotions drown out all the feelings that Hobgoblin funnels into her and the sounds of play that their companions vocalize out to one another.
A smile spreads across the other's lips and she relieves herself of all previous stress and her heavy heart.
By the time she's laid herself in the sand, having reached a comfortable position, a laugh fills her heart with warmth. This time, instead of making something small and puny, a smile worth remembering and taking note of crosses the champagne's glowing facial features. She listens to every word with the kind of attention that is only given to someone you truly care about, treating every single noise, touch, conversation, feelings for one another, as if they would be the last you would ever receive from them.
Amara was important, more than any others had been to her. Amara had been the one that always seemed to stick around, that was there when she needed her to be and made sure to keep her company.
The least Sikeax could ever do was return everything that her friend had ever done for her and more.
As they become closer to one another, she shifts herself towards the other, moving so that her honey coloured hide caresses the soft plush of her partner's feathery wings. She closes the space as her muzzle reaches out, drawing velvet lips over a warm coat as she grooms silently, drinking in all of the words poured from Amara's lips.
'I've missed you.'
Something hits her heart like an anvil dropped from above, slamming into it with a crushing might that shatters plexiglass walls built into some almost impenetrable prison. For once, she can be reassured that someone in the world really cares for her very existence, for every breath that she takes.
"If you're lonely, you'll always have me. I don't want you to be wandering about freely. Let me give you a purpose, a place to stay, a family other than Sammie and I. Please, stay with me in the Throat. They'll find something for you to do, and you'll have me and so many more. I won't let you be lonely." Tired, desperate whispers weep from her lips in a plea for her to stay, begging internally that all will work out in the end.
"Please. I want to make you feel important, that you have purpose in life. Let me and the rest of my family in the Dragon's Throat give that to you."
If she knew that she could manage to choke out sobs that had long since been silenced by some malevolent force that had previously knocked out all of the tears from her ocean blue eyes, then she would of released the remainder of them into Amara, breaking all of the rules that she had written herself from the day that she fully accepted Cera had almost given up his life to save her own, having held him in her embrace as he bled from wounds that she should been given.
Life wasn't fair. Nothing could and would change that simple rule, and it had been life that drained all of her personal life from her very soul.

OOC: Oh god. These feels and long posts.
What are they and where are they coming from

@[Amara]

Sparked by worrying and curiosity, Sikeax's head turns to stare off into the same direction that Amara's golden eyes had once locked onto, searching for whatever could of been there. A snort flares her nostrils as if to drive a warning into the ground. Hobgoblin's attention in Sameira fades off as the snort hits his ears, stopping to stare at his bonded before changing into a bi-legged dragon-like creature, screeching at the Hellhound in an attempt at furiosity before his new wings give him the gift of flight, pulling himself upwards into the sky and shooting into the direction that the mares had been so caught up in.
The brute force of her worries comes to strike out at her, truth finally spilling from the lips of the chestnut mare. In some sort of hinted betrayal that Amara, her best friend, the one soul that she had come to trust in the years that passed without second thought, could actually lie to her, well, it adds a kind of pain into her chest, maybe even her soul when it reaches deep into some unknown, forgotten place, lacing cold, icy fingers and ripping her loose stitches apart and drawing blood that leaks emotion.
Sikeax's pale eyes were ice cold for mere seconds, wounded and upset but silent and emotionless as not to inflict pain on someone so dear.
And to think there would always be someone you could turn to to trust, to expect the utmost truth from, only to have a lie done before your very own tired, wounded eyes, it made things only more difficult.
But if Amara wished to hold her secrets, then let it be so. Sikeax could give no more complaints. The world knew no kindness nor did it have any to offer. She wouldn't reach into a bag filled with rusty nails thinking there would be nothing but soft, welcoming feathers that would soothe and smooth out all of her pains.
Her ears lean forward to offer themselves to her, silently giving the cue that all of the words spoken in their privacy would be sacred by oath, never to uttered in the future. An affectionate nicker breaks the still as she welcomes the touch in her side, lavishing in the touch.
Confusion settles her in, keeping her ears onto her companion. The distant flutter of wings signals that Hobgoblin has returned, faint squeaking that brings a snort from her nostrils. Whatever meal he'd brought back as alive, soon becoming a play thing between him and Sameira. The animalistic joy that he finds in toying with his meals as it dies brings out a sense of strong discomfort.
When she is pushed away, the final feeling of hurt hits her. She's insulted, upset, finally letting the best of her-
Claws scramble over her hide, digging in and possibly cutting the skin, but nothing gets rid of the fact that Hobgoblin actually hisses towards the Pegasus as she speaks. Wings draw themselves outwards and up, attempting to visibly increase his size. Embarrassment hits Sikeax like a brick wall while his anger is like the weight of the world, driven by the hurt that his mate feels in response to the action.
She would have to learn to cut her emotions off from him or either they would have to learn to work together to co-exist with each other's feelings, getting used to how the other worked and how to not act upon the other's feelings without permission.
"I'm sorry..." A faint whisper casts itself out as an apology for his actions. Red eyes burrow into what Hobgoblin now views as a threat. A growl rises from before Sikeax hits the height of his feelings, choosing to ignore his very presence.
One sigh of two parts embarrassment and hurt feelings gathers up the situation and puts it into control.
"Give it a chance." Hobgoblin spats at the idea. "Gaucho, our lead, he's done nothing but good for the herd and he's the one who did the murders. No one even pays mind to it. If they accepted him, then they'd accept you. I want you to be happy. I want to make sure you're okay. I'll stay with you when you're scared and make sure we can find out what's happening."
Inside, she feels she's fighting a losing battle. She doesn't know what Amara is good at. It doesn't take talent to gain a rank, a task within the family that aids the herd as a whole, only interest. She'd came to the Throat as only a child with a wish to learn and the drive needed, and had gotten past her goals further than she had expected.
"Is there anything that interests you? We'll help you learn what you want to do." There was a slight chance that she was forcing this upon Amara, but the risks that her friend faced without aid, alone in the Wilds with no one but Sameira were far greater than the risks she would take on in the Dragon's Throat.
"Please."
Soon enough, she would need to find the might to pull herself off her knees and end the begging.

@[Amara]