Innocence flows in the veins of the aureate splashed youth. It draws his legs forth in play, brings the sparkle to his eyes that never seems to leave. Wind plays with tendrils of hair that bleeds from flaxen to frost. To the cherub it speaks only of play, encouraging him on to the south of the woods. Back to the loving embrace of his father. Red panda follows at a distance, and he knows he must feed her again. They are not fully bonded yet she follows, eyes never leaving his form. He feels something unknown inside him, something he will come to know as love. The message received from the wind that tickles his listeners is not the one whispered. It tries to herald the approach of a demon, frantically telling the babe that no longer is he safe in the world he views through rose colored glasses. Skill of detecting those approaching has not been learned, leaving the long legged child prey to any who approach. Vulnerable. 

What turns his crown he doesn't know. Perhaps he never will, even in the times he will relive this moment for the rest of his adolescence. Irises reflect meadows of impossible green, bright with joy as if the sun shines over nature's blades. Before the word even falls from the stallion's lips something instinctive sinks in his stomach. Telling him to run. Run, because something dark and sinister is roiling like a tempest in the eyes of the one who towers over him, cloaked in crimson blood. Even the little one that follows him is hissing in warning, clamoring for the colt's attention. But his sinking stomach keeps him from listening, eyes focused fearfully on the monster. Something drips from antlers that on any other occasion would have been comical. Cera has never felt terror before, the rush that is installed to save your life from such situations. But he feels it now. For a long moment, one that never seems to end, Cera's legs are locked. Hooves planted to the ground as if growing roots and keeping him there. Light dims with fear in his orbs, widening in horror as the stallion growls one word. 

Die. 

But Cera isn't ready to. His mind moves from silent to wild and a prayer goes out subconsciously to the Earth god he so dearly loves. Something inside him remembers his promise of safety, but knows there is a slim chance it will happen. This is something unforeseen. The rest comes too quickly for Cera to understand. The demon lunges, aiming for the softness of his throat. And Cera jerks away, eyes wild as he scrambles to get away from the monster that crept from the shadows. Pain flourishes in his chest, like fire as the tip slices through his skin from shoulder to shoulder. A garish line that soon spills blood over his chest. White wings push him away as hard as physically possible. Long pillars stumble, and fear has completely taken over Cera's innocent visage. 

Run!

But he can't. And instead as he yanks away from this assassin, his lips fall open. Air is sucked into his lungs, inflating skinny sides as he stumbles and nearly falls away from the demon. There is no running now. Chest burns with every heartbeat. Pain flourishes like a blooming flower on his breast. 

And he screams. A blood curdling scream that pierces the forest with the shrill whinny of a child in distress. This is it. His last chance. Even as he stumbles and half leaps away from the blood soaked shadow, Cera knows he cannot escape. Tries to run, but only gets a few lengths away before the pain seizes him. Bringing him to his knees, forcing him down relentlessly. The poison is spreading rampantly through his body, no longer enough to kill in the gash but enough to swamp his mind with agony. Deep inside he knows even if he hadn't succumbed he wouldn't be fast enough to outrun an adult, and his flight lessons haven't evolved enough to sweep him away to the skies. Tears are falling as if planning to drown him, and he collapses onto the earth like a puppet whose strings have been torn to shreds. Everything is going fuzzy, snowy wings spasming uselessly in a crumpled heap around him. Blood soaks the innocence of his white patches, pouring out faster with every beat of his heart. The pain is agonizing and he writhes on the ground as the scream takes shape, forming syllables until it becomes a word. A name. 

"DADDY!!!"

Even the scream that comes from his throat seems to drain him further of his energy. It feels like fire is crawling up his breast through the wound on his chest. Cera had never felt such agony before, and his young body couldn't take it. Losing all control of his body even as he struggled fitfully on the ground. Vision turning hazy as terror gripped his mind, sinking its claws deep into his being and hanging on like a wild cat. All he can focus on is the bellow of his name that seems to shake the very forest to its roots. Yet Cera can't feel afraid, because he knows that voice. Those deep rumbles that are normally so kind, so patient with him. Hearing it in this tone, anxious and enraged, was quite the shock. The relief that takes over nearly overwhelms the pain he feels, but he's scared and shaking and he is falling quickly into seizures that shake his body far beyond his control in a way he has never felt. He's always been in control of his body, and having that taken away is terrifying.

Sight of his father is hazy and he can't seem to make his eyes focus, swaying and bubbling and transforming as delusions crept up on him. Shadowed monsters with large fangs and cackling laughter lunged and slunk from the trees around them. Eyes rolling as he tried to escape these horrible images, but unable to make his body obey. It was agonizing. More than agonizing. It shouldn't be possible in any situation for someone to endure so much pain and still be alive. Weak, gasping cries tumbled from his lips unchecked. Inhibitions shattered. Feeling distantly the hot blood that stuck uncomfortably to his chest, only furthering the haze of his vision as it leaked steadily from him. Wings fluttering like a downed chick, helpless. Scattering the moss as he jerked and twisted, trying in vain to escape a pain that seeped inside him. This wasn't something he could fight with hooves and teeth. This wasn't something he could fight at all. Throat closed partially, finding it nearly impossible to breathe as he choked and wheezed desperately. Tears flowing faster, matting the baby soft hairs on his cheeks and muzzle.

Ilaria's presence was distant, the panda sitting at his shoulder in a ball, offering as much comfort as she could. Her agony was shared through their bond, even if she was incapable of speech. Another animal landed before him, facing away but clearly in a defensive posture. Her image blurred as well, but Cera knew somewhere in his deranged mind that it was Fina. Both were welcome, even comforting presences in his shrieking mind. One that wasn't was the arrival of another pegasi. Cera would only accept his father being near, and in his fear addled state was unaware if she was friend or foe. Struggling away from her until the scent of the Throat touched his flaring nostrils, pink clearly visible as sweat beaded and foamed on his flanks and neck. Muscles working and clenching, trying to reject the poison that ran rampant. Agonized cries weakened, but they never lost their insistent nature. Pleading with somebody to help him, spots and softening edges of black creeping in on his vision. Oblivious to nearly everything around him, overwhelmed by the physical and psychological effects of the attack and the poison that tore at his insides like a greedy predator.