Among the thickening trees, the solider passes, sturdy legs a blur as they carry the heated madness past the whistling history - it still reminds him that he's haunted. As he pulls further and further away, he feels a washing warm bath of relief pour over his heated skin as he escapes. But he notices that night is nearing, and there are sharp vapors rising behind him, lapping at his bay flesh. His gallop gnaws at the trembling forest, and as he pounds over the distance, the shade-creatures are swallowed by the dust he leaves. He's stricken with... fear? They devoured his reign. They are the decedents of what killed his parents, reaching out to take him to where the dead resides. His mind screams, rages at the fighting shades. War was over! They'd chase him to the edge of the world - at least until his heart gave way. He was fighting them now, fighting to leave, fighting to kill the memories.

Sick hatred pummeled through his brain. His he looked over his right shoulder, he saw them blazing through the trees, but tiring, realizing that this was just one last victim. They'd slaughtered an entire army. What blood could they want now? Quickly they fall off, one by one, two by two, hundreds by hundreds. And he is alone racing through the blurry trees, facing mountains that square up the sky. They seem to craw closer as stars begin to blink.

Daltoff glances behind one last time, and halts, sprays of dirt and dust splay beneath his cloven hooves. Ache burns in his legs, but he swallows it in a heavy-breathing huff. His red eye stares off into the winding trail, he glances upwards to capture the filtering moonlight. He doesn't hear whispering black ghosts. At once he's alone, and he values it. The land smells strongly of horses of all races. He grinds his back teeth. There simply was not an escape from the seething battles. They continue to fuel him through the night as he paces. Pine nettles are the only cadence, whispering in the dark shade's place. He is grateful and waiting. A growl is still capable, rumbling through his drenched chest. He's still under the moonlight, it wades around his hooves, sloshing about his wind-tousled mane.

Daltoff's hooves pad carefully, an attempt to drive away the relentless fear. Paranoid, he uses such caution, always glancing far over the right shoulder to see behind his left side. The absence of his eye causes such an irritation to bubble in his short-minded brain, but it's a flaw he'll have to live with. He could do it, too. If he ran across the fire-aroused world to claim safety, without it, the soldier would sure find away to solider technique. But now he just aims to cool his still-galloping guts, and calm his frazzled thoughts.

The trees hide him well enough, he's nearly the same dark shade under the florescent moon as it bleaches the treetops. He watches the millions of stars echo themselves, dancing with the movement of the planet on its axis. This calms him a bit - and he begins to think clearly. He thinks of his parents as those tiny stars, but they're so far away that he knows they're so much greater. He names Ailayne as the largest, brightest star, nestled in a tight constellation. The star is the most beautiful, and the most sensible - the first any would lay their eyes on. His eye dots the remaining stars to name other warriors he knew, he believes they all lay within the moon's watch.

As if to interrupt the vigil, a cleanly smell creeps into the canals of his nostrils. Dalt recognizes it to be of a large Unicorn stallion, and if anything it already captured his musty scent. Daltoff rests a marked thigh, and twists his face up into an ugly scowl as he inhales more of the visitor's scent. As he approaches, Dalt feels as if the frosty appearance is actually mocking him. He seems to bring winter along with him, and without a second thought, he feels as if the wind carries a hint of frost to his sweat-darkened brown skin. The old warrior twitches his tail as the oddly marked male begins to speak. His one-eyed gaze lingers along his sparkling blue horn, somewhat amused at how it twinkles in the intense moonlight. Daltoff does admit to himself that this spotted stallion looks fit, even in the weak light. The soldier dips his head as the other horse moves in - perhaps the most respectful form of greeting he'd managed in a while. But his respect stops at the lighthearted expression of his "eventful journey." The warrior lifts his heavy head and rage begins to grow over his features.

"You don't know what kind of hell I've been through," the stallion's jaws clack before releasing the foul snap. Daltoff will not have anyone take his "journey" lightly. Frankly, he didn't give a shit about who they were. Everyone he knew, trusted, or loved died. They were gone like yesterday's currents. He could relive the episode thousands of times and not save near the lives that were lost in the past season. His haste grew more as the spotted stallion talked. "Daltoff." His name came, but it was raided with irate tone.

Curiosity pricks helter-skelter. World's Edge? It sounded to him like some sort of cavalry line. He briefly imagines miles of working foot-soldiers rounding up. But this Mauja, he looks nothing of a soldier - unless he were one of the magic dealers who spit out tendrils of supernatural weaponry. "What is World's Edge?" Another glance of his red eye soars up to Ailayne's star, and he knows this is the beginning of a new life.

As the flickering eye watches his Ailayne twinkle above, he hears Mauja's voice come into his statement. This makes him chuckle and twitch his eye away from the sparkling kin. 'He's got sense.' Dalt's thoughts twitch as he releases a sigh that is built half aerobic and half annoyance. The seal stallion grunts. "Perhaps." He quietly admits agreement, more eager to hear about World's Edge than simple talk. He wishes quickly that he could just sleep and let all of the events of yesterday and the years before that sink in. It's been a long last few years.

Then another arrives. His mind slumps and realizes he's going to be here much longer than planned. The bay girl waltzes in with antlers bulging from beside her ears, her forehead is bare, and it brings in resemblance to the enormous white steed who shook the mountains. Anger begins to build, and then as if distracted, she speaks to Mauja as if he's her King. What gets him most is that, that King has to introduce her. Her eyes then turn to him, and he gets to feeling uncomfortable.

Mauja finally gets back to talking about Worlds Edge and Daltoff begins to ease off a bit with his pretentious stares. He's indefinitely intrigued at the mention of how well it's name relates to it's true landscape and he actively imagines falling from atop the rocky gorges. Now he knows why it is so unusually humid here. He tried to picture this God of the Sun, and he envisions him as a golden Pegasus. He instantly joins Mauja's hatred.

"We are .. pure"

Dalt snaps from his thoughts. He glances over to Korra and back to Mauja. With a wave of his long horn he questions, "Pure?" He waves his horn again. "As in... This pure?" Excitement begins to rouse in his eyes. 'They believe...'

His garnet eye dances back up to the army of stars, thanking them for finding a place where he could become a key to the Unicorn supremacy. They would take over, they would rule the world, and slay until the world was of pristine blood. Unicorn blood. The bay stallion, full of fatigue, steps wholeheartedly towards, them dipping his head, away from his stars. Daltoff is still perhaps, a little unsure of just how pure their dreams were, just how far they wish to go in the aspect of elimination of anyone non-unicorn. He is sure though, that any extermination is a key to unlock peace and security for all of the beautiful Unicorn race.

Daltoff looks back to the bay girl, Korra, taking a smarter look into her abilities. Perhaps she isn't all extraterrestrial, and maybe she was useful to the supremacy? Whatever she is, Dalt now looks at her in a different way - a better way, a way that is sure she'll make up for her one odd flaw. Surely, if the King feels so highly for her, she is quite a good being.

He sees Mauja step out into the open ring of pooling moonlight, his voice sounding out in agreement over the stifling shadows. His one good eye peers into the glittering blue of his icy horn, and feels intrigue melt into his brain. He wonders what sorts of magic are out there for the Unicorns to use. He wonders if it is as destructive as the demigods' and could attempt to wipe out an entire race. Whatever the case, he's sure it's just as good. And as Mauja speaks again, the old soldier dips his head to agree. "It is, my brother." And then a devious grin grows to his lips, and he feels a chuckle rasp bubble in his vocal chords. Daltoff takes a fierce step in the direction they came from, and with another nod, he feels as if he's already home.

( Ending it here! )