I was panicking. What folly had prompted me to seek him out in the dead of night, in a land that I may not be welcome in? I would be chased out, or worse, wouldn't I? They would want to know why I had just barged in rather than waiting at the border. They would have questions. They would have demands. They would view my actions with suspicion. A cool breeze wafted through the trees; goosebumps raced in a wave across my skin, a shiver wracking my body, caused as much by my terror as by the chill. What was I going to do? Should I just leave? Of course I should. My pistons shuffled beneath me as I shifted back and forth, my confusion obvious in my motions, my anxiety rolling off me in waves.

A noise caught my attention, surely much louder in my overly sensitive auds than it had any right to be; I spun, my legs splaying in what was surely a comical manner (had I not been so out-of-my-mind afraid), my cranium flung high into the air. But what I saw was more like an apparition than reality, and for a moment, hope sprung from deep in my heart, overflowing relief allowing my muscles to relax. I was afraid to believe my luck: had I really managed to find the one that I had come here to seek out? "Tamira..." his voice was like a drug, calling me closer. I needed his strength, his comfort, and yet still I stood, immobilized. I didn't dare believe that he was there. "What brings you out so late?"

His voice was laced with something akin to pain, and for a moment, I saw my own anxiety reflected in his gaze. I couldn't speak; all I could do was stare desperately into his eyes, searching for something that I could not name. I had come for his comfort, or course, and so he could keep me in check when I blacked out. But I had also come to - to what? To test him? To see if my feelings for him were unfounded? In the days since our first meeting, I had been consumed with thoughts of him, with memories of the electricity of his touch. I had never felt this way about another before, and after several days' incessant thought, I knew that my deepest desires had been answered: I loved him. I loved him for the way he had managed to contain and comfort me, for the way he had stood by me in what I was sure was my darkest hour.

And more than that, I needed him. It was but a moment before he spoke again, the emotional turmoil in him enough to break the spell of immobility. "I'm glad you came." A small, tight smile brushed across my lips, ever so brief, and then I was moving fluidly, easily forward, reaching my muzzle to touch his, to caress the soft, tender skin; and then it was onwards, slipping my cranium to press against his nape, hiding, in a sense, in his thick mane. He was ever so much larger than I, and his proximity was a calming thing, almost seeming to create a lull before the storm that I was sure would be coming. I breathed deeply, for the first time in what seemed like hours (it may very well have been hours, I realized), and his scent enveloped me, wrapped around my mind, drawing me closer.

And, for a moment, I was blissfully happy.

But it would not last, of course. I could feel the insistent pounding in my mind, the sharp pangs that rattled my skull with pain. I pulled away, perhaps the hardest thing I've ever had to do, for as we parted, my safety net fell away, and again the terror invaded me. I did not go far, only far enough to look into his eyes, to will myself to calm. "It's happening again," I said simply, and I knew he would understand. Perhaps it was an irrelevant comment; he already seemed to know why I had come. And yet, still he was glad to see me. "I... I need you. I... you're the only one who can help me." But it was so much more than that, so much that I cannot seem to put into words.

"talk"

If love is surrender, then whose war is it anyway?

"I will not leave you."

The words were like a drug, a soothing balm to calm me. I felt my breath leave my lungs in a whoosh, a breath that I had been unaware I was holding. For a moment, I felt peace. The threatening darkness that pulsed at the back of my mind, waiting to overwhelm me, was once more temporarily vanquished, and I was aware only of him. The sigh that was previously uttered was almost like a dam breaking, allowing my feelings and my emotions to rush from my pores. I smiled, and it was a true smile, and I knew that my feelings for Thor would be displayed in the radiance of my gaze. And then the moment ended, and the shadows returned. As they began to envelope me, I heard three words. "I am here." And I stopped fighting.

The change is swift this time, and it is over in the blink of an eye. Instead of a blank look, her eyes gleam with a wicked sort of power, and she simply raises her head, her posture queenly and demanding. A smile, with none of the sweetness of before, spreads across her lips, accompanied by a seductive batting of lashes, and then it is done.

Finally! I had regained control over the weakling, and I knew that this time, I would hold her under longer, like drowning a babe that no one wanted. I knew that I couldn't get rid of her - no, that would be too easy - and I couldn't hold onto this body forever, but I was damned if I was going to just roll over like a good pup and allow her to have her body back. Oh no, this time, she would have to work for it. I sneered mentally, reveling for a moment in my glorious return to power. It gave Thor a moment to prepare for my relentless onslaught, not that I meant to do so. I was simply barring the doors in my mind, holding the weakling trapped in the recesses of he own brain, not that she knew how to use it. She still couldn't remember anything. It made me laugh.

And then my predatory, alluring gaze turned to the stallion. He was just as I remembered, and my desires had not changed in our short time apart. I stepped flirtatiously closer, my motions a graceful dance across the ground. "Thor," I purred, my tone laced with passion, designed to lure him ever closer. "It's been far too long, darling." Oh, I had missed this the most, being able to turn this stallion on his head, make him so deeply conflicted, as I knew he had to be. Of course, everyone would love the weakling with her sweet words and kind heart; but I appealed to something much deeper, much darker. In the end, the darkness would win.

"talk"

Let me run
Let me feel like someone

I could see his indecision, and that was my drug. I am not so weak as to crave his affection; no, I prefer to taunt him, to lull him into my grasp, to draw him closer like a siren's song. Perhaps such a term would have been more appropriate than 'Myriad' for my name, but I cherish his christening, and so Myriad I will stay. He was fighting a mental battle; on the one hand, I wanted his strength to fade, for him to give in to temptation, so I could claim him as mine, as a conquest that I have so eagerly completed. But on the other, the challenge was my thirst, and I did not yet want it quenched. His whisper is soft, but not quite broken, and so the challenge remains.

And then there are my desires for my weaker half. I want to destroy something she cherishes. At first, I had wanted to use Thor to father a child, surely a surprise when she awoke from her slumber, and she wouldn't even know the father! It would be the ultimate revenge for my imprisonment, or so I thought. But now... now I had seen, through her eyes, the way he looked at her, seemed to care for her, and I knew her feelings for him. To destroy him, to cast him from her life, would that not be the best course of action? Perhaps, and yet I found myself conflicted on this, too. He was quite handsome (save the odd little wings, of course, but I shant mention those), and I rather liked that he could resist my call. Maybe I even liked him.

Regardless, I would not force him away on this day. "I see that your absence has been more than becoming; you're as... desirable as ever." His words were hesitant, and yet I basked in their glow, fluttering my lashes as I sashayed ever closer. "Well, of course I do, darling," I agree. "I am always desirable, wouldn't you say?" His touch was welcome, soft at first along the crest of mane, then sharper as his caress turned to gentle nips. I giggled, winding my body around his like a cat, repeating my motions from our previous meeting. I flicked my tail against his legs, finding myself once more in front of him. "You simply must tell me how you manage to elude my grasp, dearest," I tease. "I can tell that it is difficult for you."

"talk"

Let me run
Let me feel like someone

As I waited for him to open his eyes, reaffirm the knowledge that I held power over him, I considered how I could make my mark on him, claim him as my own. I don't intend to remain a secondary player in this game forever. No, I will gain my freedom, through one way or another. My cool chocolate gaze rested thoughtfully on him, pondering how he could be of use to me in this personal quest of mine, how he could help me further my little vendetta. Perhaps I could talk him into assisting me. Or perhaps I could plant the idea, as a seedling in his mind, and wait for it to grow, wait for him to talk the seedling into separating she and I into different bodies.

I wondered briefly what I would look like. Would we be twins, she and I, destined to roam the wilds within the confines of two lookalike bodies? Or would we be opposing colors, one of us a dark russet with pale banners, the other pale with darkened accents? I didn't want to look like her, of course. I wanted to separate myself as much as possible from the weakling. And I wanted to claim that which had once been hers. I wanted this body. I wanted this stallion. I wanted to steal him from her, entwine his fate so tightly with mine that he would be hard-pressed to escape my grasp. I didn't want her to have anything. I wanted to watch her burn.

He opened his eyes then, and offered warning words to my waiting lobes. I laughed, a high, tinkling sound that was both alluring and poisonous. "My dear Thor," I purred. "I never lose." A smirk crossed my maw, and I tossed my head, sending ivory tresses flying into waves, cascading over my nape and shoulders. My forelock fell to cover one eye, and again I found myself waiting. Waiting for him. He turned; I felt a moment's disappointment, but I followed nonetheless. If he thought he could escape that easily, he was sorely mistaken. But I am quickly corrected - he wanted me to follow him, and so I had, like a lost puppy.

I didn't like that he felt he had control over me; I liked it even less that I had to acknowledge that he was correct. But so long as we shared that bond, surely I would win over my weaker half, would I not? What did she have that I didn't? Nothing. And she surely didn't know how to string him along, push his buttons, so to speak, not like I did. "Desirable, you are love... and I only wish for you to come closer, test my resolve." His words were teasing, and I bridled, offering a predatory smile. I felt as though I were stalking my prey, drawing ever closer, only to have it dance just out of my grip. I pranced closer, again allowing our bodies to touch. I ignored the shiver that shot up my spine at the contact, instead focusing on setting his nerves on end.

“You know, as difficult as it seems, you make it endearingly easy to hold out… You’re something of a present that I’m slowly unwrapping.” The smile that he offered was similar to my own, and I realized that we were stalking each other, trying to corner each other. It would be a never-ending game, this, with the pair of us forever circling, searching for an opening, a weakness, that we might utilize to break down the walls we threw up, the protection that we forged ourselves as solace. "But why torment yourself that way," I protested, my vocals teasing. "When if would be oh so easy to simply... give in." My maw crept up his nape as I spoke, the last words simply a breath in his auds; and then I was dancing away, enticing him to follow me this time, deeper into the woods.


"talk"

Let me run
Let me feel like someone

I craved control, I could not deny that. Who wouldn't, being kept in solitary confinement within one's own mind as I had been for so long? I wanted my body to be my own, but more than that, I wanted to control others. Perhaps that was an ability the gods would deign to grant me, if they chose to stop playing tricks like trapping two souls in one body. Ah, to be able to influence another's actions, what power! I longed for power, lusted after it much as Thor now lusted after me (which, of course, was a kind of power, and one that I thoroughly enjoyed). Perhaps I was simply deprived, as alone as I often found myself, for in his affections, I found a solace that was not present in any other actions I had taken when the weakling fell to my attempts.

It was both, I realized suddenly - I loved the power that I held over him, but so too did I love the way his eyes followed my movements, lingered over every curve of my bodice. Plain, I may be, but in this there was beauty, if not in adornments, then in color, in build. I knew it, and from his gaze, I knew that he knew it. She did not know, and I knew that it made her perhaps more appealing - what stallions like about the innocent and the naive, I would never understand - but it was I that knew how to draw on his affections, how to tease that which was easily forsaken.

Love was not a word that sprung easily to my lips, and I would not fool myself into believing that I loved him. No, I loved the feeling that was him. The air between us was charged, as though an electric circuit ran between my skin and his; the atmosphere was sated with lust. He appreciated me for what I was, and for that, I was grateful - it was this that I adored, not the stallion. There were others better suited to me, but I could see his darkness, writhing under his iron will, battering at the door, straining to escape. It wanted me - he wanted me - and yet the desire was held under lock and key. Even that would not always hold it.

"Then give in to me..." he said, and the words gave away his ambitions, and his reservations, as I danced away through the trees, hips swaying, coaxing him onward. And so he followed, as I knew he would. I turned, winding around a tree trunk, bringing myself face-to-face with him one more. Our orbs met, and my nose stopped mere inches from his own. His breath mingled with mine, and mine with his, and I lost track of whose scent I was breathing in. I was heady with the power, lost in my control. I could almost touch him, but I restrained; the soft velvet of his muzzle would pull her out of her hole, and I was not inclined to allow that. But still, his touch called to me. "You will give in to me," I breathed, and I knew it was a fact.


"talk"

Let me run
Let me feel like someone

His demise was so close that I could taste it, a metallic tang in my mouth, so intoxicating and yet, at the same time, repellent. I knew why, of course - when he gave in, our game would be over. I would win, he would lose, and that would be that. We would no longer banter, no longer battle. Our wills would not clash or collide. No, we would simply cease to interact. He would not hold my interest (though I may, perhaps, continue to hold his). "Then you shall have me at your will," he said, and for a brief moment, I was foolish enough to imagine that I had won.

And then: "Tamira."

A simple word, and yet it proved my undoing. Had I the power, I would have shrieked my rage: not only had he confused me with the weakling, but he had unwittingly managed to call her back. I could feel my power waning, my control over the body that we shared falling away. It was almost as though I were being sucked backwards, forced to return to the mental cell that was my confinement. Never before had the change been so sudden, nor so hard - I could not grasp even a sliver of control, hadn't the power to say even one parting word. I was unraveling within our conjoined mind.

The change is sudden; a new awareness appears in their eyes, and instead of the slow return that had plagued her the last time, it is clear that Tamira is immediately there, almost as though she were picking up where their conversation had left off. She has no memory of the change, but she does recognize that they had migrated further into the forest. She wonders why.

"Tamira."

"Yes?" I turned to face him without a clue of how we had gotten this far. I was confused, to say the least. What had I said, before? Time had passed, I could tell that much from the movement of the moon and the stars across the night sky; indeed, morning was coming, arriving swiftly from the eastern sky. Ah, yes, I had come to him for help. Had he helped me? What had transpired in the time between then and now? What did I say? What did I miss? Well, only he knew the answer, and so I phrased the question. "What happened?" I was painfully aware of my confusion without the haze of the last change to dull my mind.


"talk"

Let me run
Let me feel like someone