“North!”

“South!”

Sacre sighed. Even his foxes were arguing over which way to go. Inari thought the mountains a safer bet, he was brought up there after all, but Ríona sought the familiarity of the southern dragon. They tugged on his mind with their flaring emotions, bickering over which way was best and Sacre stood between them, beginning to get a headache. Either way presented problems and to both he wanted to go if only out of selfish need just to see if they were the same as they always had been.  In the end, when the constant chattering in his head had about worn him down, another voice chimed over the top of them causing a crease to form on his dark brow. For a moment he thought he was going mad. Only two foxes were bonded to his mind, not three, but maybe they’d been talking that much it had all blurred into many. Yet, suddenly the argument stopped and Sacre became aware that they were not alone.

The voice wasn’t in his mind, instead, it belonged to the girl in front of him.

He searched her face, his eyes narrowing; there was something so faintly familiar about her, but he couldn’t pinpoint it so he let it slide. She bore a skull face and a pair of red eyes, her name was Nymeria of the Hidden Falls and that was all he could gather from her sincere features.

“No” he answers rather quietly, suddenly finding it rather odd to be finally talking to someone other than the two beside him. He half wished he was a newcomer, to erase the cruel memories his previous life had handed him, but to do that he would have to lose the rest, the good times, and Sacre clung to them like a child clung to a blanket. “I was born here, raised here-” louder now, his voice was rough sounding and a small smile sat on his lips. “Then I left and returned, now I have lost my way” a blurb of his life, rather than his lack of orienteering skills, but he pondered some more, his blue eyes searching for her red ones  “unless I really can go with you, perhaps you can show me the way”.

“Sacre!”

It was a joint cry that echoed through his mind and he winced at the suddenness of it. He knew what they thought, he didn’t know this mare, but Sacre also knew how the game worked. He had played it enough times. Even if her intentions were foul, they couldn’t be fouler than what he had already seen, in fact; he silently dared her to better it.

“I’m Sacre” the sacred idiot.