The light bending through the boughs of the trees distorts, swirls, lifts, drawing new pictures in my hazy vision.  The wound on my shoulder aches, but I am distant, feeling nothing of the heat pulsating through my body.  I shiver occasionally, having no control to stop such a thing.

Much to my surprise, Ashamin remained quiet throughout much of the journey.  I am glad, for the irritation rendered from the interactions in this wood thus far wilted my already waning energy.  Now, I mirror the silence, focusing on the sunlight glowing on his painted back, trying to stay awake.  The pace is slow, for my benefit, and I am silently thankful for this as well.  Leaving behind the shadow mare with her pure intentions and hard teal eyes, I am now left to reflect upon my actions.

More disturbing, the presence I am trying to ignore, the flickering golden figure being formed out of light at my side.  She is a ghost.  Nothing but a ghost.  Do not look at her face.
I am dying, wavering between the living and the dead.  It makes sense the dead are reaching out to me now, with soft arms, trying to pull me over.
The soft chirps of birds warp into laughter, chiding at my poor attitude, at the pile of trash I had become.  I cannot wait to be rid of this fever and the painful reminder that I am nothing but a failure.

"Ryouta."

I shut my eyes, continuing to step forward, shaking my head.
As I open them again, I had nearly walked straight into Ashamin's ass, but my slowed movements halt immediately.  I search his face as he speaks, trying to capture the tones that fill the space between us.  He introduces this place as the Blood Falls, and a crackling laugh escapes my dry throat.  How fitting, not that he would really understand why.

"Hai," I say in return to his attempt to quell my fears about the deep crimson of the water.  "I understand - thanks."

I walk forward, dropping my head wearily toward the blood colored surface of the water, and gently dip my muzzle into the liquid.  The cool burst hits my throat painfully at first, but eventually levels off as a soothing sensation.  It is around now that I realize the glimmering ghost has disappeared, leaving me alone in the forest with the limp horned unicorn.  Off the brink of life, but still not out of the woods, I suppose.

My ears flicker toward Ashamin as he speaks again, but my lips do not break from the rippling surface of water.  I do not know how long I drank from the crisp liquid waters.  After minutes, hours, years, I lift my head and lazily let water ooze from my lips back to the surface.  "I am already dying," I say, my voice quite abrupt, but a smirk twists the edges of my lips.  "Not like I have much to lose by following you."

Despite the rather noncommittal tone of my voice, my back leg cocks to reveal that I am indeed relaxed, perhaps for the first time since Ashamin laid eyes on my weak form.  "You should really consider a change of heart, though.  Helping ungrateful asses can't be a good hobby."  I look out at the falls, watching the crashing water form thick mists which wrap us in a cool respite.

""