The mid-day sun provided a mild warmth that the unicorn mare reveled in. She sunned her blue coat, moving lazily through the trees. Her path was dappled in sunlight, as the trees were growing more naked by the day as they gradually shed their leaves. The creatures of this place created a soft soothing symphony, and she enjoyed the tune. There was something so perfect about orangemoon. Though she loved the passion of tallsun, and her favorite place was beneath the summer stars, she also found herself enjoying more the mildness that came as the brutal heat faded. She paused beside a great maple tree, taking a minute to enjoy the beautiful maroon leaves that had started to fall, before raising her head and letting her eyes close. The sun warmed her face, and she released a content sigh. She had decided to escape the heaviness of trying to fill in the small gaps where she still missed memories, as well as trying to mend any broken relationships, and was taking this day to enjoy the present. Today, she was allowing herself to feel happy, despite all else.

After an unknown length of time — she was giving herself a break from being bound by the constraints of time — she began moving along again. The simple ancient beauty of this forest was a gentle yet solid reminder that she was simply experiencing a moment in the great timeline, and that though she may eventually be forgotten, some things, if allowed to exist without interventions, would last forever.

A rustling in the decaying foliage and dried brush caught her attention, and she turned her head towards the source. Ears twisted back as she released a soft snort, eyes narrowing, muscles braced. It seemed so easy to fall back into the role of a fighter, and despite how she had refined and smoothed her sharp edges over time, she would always be a viper, ready to coil and strike at the right triggers.

Bounding across her path came a sandy-colored jack rabbit. The girl couldn’t help but let free a soft laugh and toss her head at how ridiculous her response had been to a simple jackalope. The jack rabbit stopped upon her well worn trail, several paces ahead, scratching a soft ear with it’s rear foot. It’s large round eyes, intellegent even if not neccessarily sentient, caught the starlit mare, and it turned towards her, pounding a warning sound out with a large hind leg, before hopping forward and shaking it’s small antlers at her. Ki’irha smiled down at the creature. Despite it’s small size, it was so convinced it was formidible and terrifying, that it would try to charge down an opponent so much larger than it. She stepped back, dipping her head. It’s small nose twitched as it thought better of it’s actions when it’s advances weren’t met with similar aggression, and off it bounded into the woods at the opposite side of the trail.

Still smiling, she continued on down the way, coming to approach a beautiful structure hidden away within the woods. She had happened upon this place once before, and there was something so magnificent about it, that she found herself returning to it to meditate and let much needed relaxation and release wash over her.

The great sheer curtains that hung between the pillars billowed slowly in the warm breeze. They muffled the hues of color cast by the stained glass roof of the rotunda. The mare walked past the building to the shore of the stream that bubbled by. Everything about this place seemed frozen in time. It was a quiet escape. She dropped her head down, drinking in the cool water. Though she appeared to be lost in this sanctuary, her ears still remained alert and attentive as always.

Though she usually enjoyed her solitude, there were times that things were better enjoyed by friends. But even if no one else came, this would be enough for her. It would be plenty to ease the weight upon her shoulders, and the constraints upon her heart.

Despite her attentiveness, she was totally oblivious to the approaching stallion halting in the shadows. He was a buck that should be familiar to her, as they had met at nearly every recruit she had attempted to bring home to the Basin, and him to the Edge. But of course she wouldn’t remember him, or else the conversation would have been a fond one. Either way, it did not effect her, as he was lingering in the curtains, unannounced, and nearly predatory in the way he admired her belongings. He remained invisible for now (can you imagine the irony, a perfectly hidden elephant?), and she continued on her seemingly solitary business.

The water was sweet as it washed over her lips. She enjoyed it’s coolness, now all she needed was to quench the hunger that had started to nag at her stomach. She walked leisurely over to a lush patch of green, unusual compared to the rest of the world under the autumn season, but it had retained it’s life due to the abundance of water that rushed by. She dropped her head again, chewing the blades absentmindedly. A warm breeze tousled her mane, and she released a contented sigh.

Her mid-day snack sated her thirst and appetite, pushing her over the edge of perfectly satisfied. A full stomach, a cozily warmed coat, a perfect afternoon. Drowziness washed over her. She stretched her weary muscles, feeling them pull and move beneath her coat. It was almost a waste, being built like a lean predator, like a sleek wildcat, but instead living as a sitting duck who couldn’t remember the thrill of battle.

She paced over to a tree, rubbing the arch of her neck against it. Though she still wore her summer coat, her thick winter fur was threatening to start coming in any day now, so she found herself frequently using the rough bark of the trees to calm the itch. As she rubbed against it, she felt the sparkling crystal comb in her mane loosen. She shook her mane, and though it was still firmly seated enough to not fall out without force, she would have to make a mental note to ask another for assistance in replanting it into her tresses so she could again move about freely. But for now, she had no plans of running or bucking or tossing her head, so she did not let it worry her.

Stepping back towards the lush patch of grass, she let her legs fold gracefully, lowering herself to the bedding. The whistle of birds lulled her, and the whisper of the brook babbling by soothed her. Her head began to droop, heavy lids becoming increasingly difficult to hold up. Her head swayed, and slowly she allowed it to fall, until it rested upon her muzzle.

Life continued to live around her, and the world continued to turn. But for a while, she was able to find peace, knowing not that she was being watched, and that it would not last for long. Because even in dreams, she was always being hunted.

Always running, always running, always running. She finds herself sprinting, unsure if she is running away or running towards. It is like a desert around her, but instead of cracked earth and dunes of sand, she finds herself crossing a frozen tundra. The whitened earth is covered in fissures, creaking and groaning and aching, with great drifts of snow moving and mutating as the wind whips across the desolate land. The sky above is darkened midnight, an inky abyss, the stars spinning dizzily in mad circles. Two great comets rip from the sky, racing with great sparkling white debris trails chasing then in their wake. They hit the earth, exploding in a dazzling array of white and blue fireworks. Still she runs, and from the impact points rise two glorious creatures, each with massive wings (though one’s wings seem to be made of moonlight), and both are proudly crowned, they are carved from the darkest black, glowing in their own right. They scream out to her as they chase her, and the words they yell are stolen by the howling wind. But, though the mare is sure her ears deceive her, it is almost as if they are yelling “Mother.”

Though peaceful, the girl’s features occasionally twitch as the dream shifts into a nightmare. Her sleep is light, but she is engulfed enough into the sleep world, that it would take an earthquake to shake her from her rest.

She tries to lengthen her strides, tries to escape them. They look like her children, but full grown, how she had imagined they would turn out. Beautiful as they were, they still pursue her, terrify her, force her to avoid their accusing voices and heartbroken eyes. “Neglected! Abandoned! Forgotten!” They taunt her, play on her feelings, and she just can’t seem to escape them.

The stallion, her handsome Virga, snaps at her heels, like a wolf out for blood. The midnight-forged mare, stunning as Ki’irha ever could have dreamed, reaches for her neck, her own teeth snapping beside her neck as she gains ground. The thunder of hooves, though the vibrations seem somehow slower than that of the galloping hooves of her twins, seem to shake her down to her core. It seems so real.

She feels breath upon the arch of her neck, feels the softest tug, a gentle brush, the opposite of the bared teeth of her daughter…

Her eyes quivered beneath their lids, and slowly they open. It is then she realizes that the touch, the feel, the hoofbeats, they seemed so real because she was no longer alone. Gentle lips brush against her neck as the thief steals his prize from the curls of her mane. Her eyes roll, whites like crescent moons pressed into her face, the steely irises flashing and shifting like the darkest of thunderheads, and her nostrils flare, lips curling. But as she begins to drag herself from the dirt, something happens.

The stallion shifts and stirs and transforms, and she’s so caught off-guard by the incredible site that she almost forgets she needs to move the hell out of the way. “Holy shi-“ was all that she was able to choke out as she scrambled backwards, moving with the grace of a newborn filly, as a whole freaking elephant tore out of the stallion who had stolen from her. A scream ripped from her throat as she her rear hoof became caught on a root. She tripped during her attempt at an exit, and she tumbled backwards into the river. She splashed and sputtered for a moment before she was able to claw her way upright. Her mane was slicked to her coat, which shone with the slick sheen of a fish, and her ears twisted back. The expression on her face was an exquisite mix of anger, terror, and disgruntlement, and she tossed her head to shake the wet forelock from her glaring eyes. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel as she stared the full grown bull in the eyes. First he stole from her, then he almost crushed her. What next, was he going to grab her with his trunk and shake her around like a rag doll above her head? Or was he going to sprout wings and fly away? At this point, anything was possible.

From an outside perspective, it would have probably been a dramatic and hilarious display, seeing the two face off in an epic stare down.

A booming voice escaped the wrinkled leathery beast, and if her jaw hadn’t been clenched so firmly in anger, it probably would have fallen slack. "Apologies? Seriously?” she managed to growl. But beyond that, he knew her name, and something about that voice seemed so familiar. She racked her brain, trying to think of where she knew it from. Her lack of words was helpful in this situation, as it gave her time to play the words on repeat.

It hit her, then, and her brows furrowed, ears turning forward, voice moving from furious to confused. She knew that voice, but she would never expect the gentle giant from the Threshold to steal from her. He was always so kind and warm, and wasn’t he the king of some place? Couldn’t he find better means to obtaining treasure than stealing a trinket from a sleeping woman? “Tembovu?” For a moment after, she stood sopping wet in the river, staring at the elephant with an incredulous look. Suddenly nostrils flared, ears turned back again, and she gave a quick shake before stomping out of the river right up to the multi-ton creature. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What is going on?” She stopped paces away from him, within trunk length, staring up at him. Eyes glanced for a moment at his tusks. She didn’t feel like being gored today, which was most of the reason that she didn’t send an electrified elephant rampaging towards him, though she doubted the effects would even penetrate his leathery skin. So instead she stood and stared and fumed, wondering what the excuse could possibly be for such an unpleasant meaning.