Physical wounds healed. The wounds closed over time, scar tissue formed and hardened, the skin was left bare, but in essence it was healed. Mental wounds could not scar the way a physical one did. The mind, such a wonderfully complex thing, works to protect itself from the memories that scarred it, but like everything it had its limitations. It cannot always offer protection to its keeper and so in the times when its protection is lacking the mind's keeper suffers.
Seafoam green eyes were glazed over as the sooty stallion walked without purpose through the forest that resembled the one he had abandoned in Isilme. The scars that had adorned his body as testament to his escape had begun to heal, with little thanks to any of the healers the Foothills claimed to have had. Being in need of a healer was a sign of weakness, was it not? Tajheri was a stallion who prided himself on his strength, but that strength was lacking at the moment.
"Dad, what are you doing?"
Taj blinked and turned his head first to the right then to the left. Upon seeing nothing he looked forward again only to see the keeper of the voice, a small black filly looking up at him with eyes that matched his own. Ears tilted back and eyes widened until the whites showed as he backed away. The sooty stallion closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them he had been transported from the forest to a land that was distant and familiar all at once.
"Dad?"
"Stop it!." He ground out at the filly, but she was not talking to him.
Shock stunned him into silence as he watched the filly stare up at a stallion that matched him physically both in size and color. A smile had graced the little girl's lips but it disappeared as she began to sense the danger that radiated from him. In one swift movement his teeth latched onto the filly's nape. She squealed and he snorted. There was the godawful sound of bones snapping and then all was quiet. The little filly lay on the ground, gasping for air. In one final movement his hoof cleaved her head. Tajheri reeled back, his stomach churning and twisting and his nose burning with the tang of blood and gore. In the distance, past the him that he was watching a cat lurked.
Jaguar?
Seafoam eyes were squeezed shut and when they opened again the forest was restored. There was no stallion that matched him standing over the broken body of a filly. Dad? Tajheri snorted and shook his head then pressed on.
Walking did not suffice. Everything was gone, restored to normal, but why could he still smell blood? Why could he still hear the filly's scream echoing in his ears.
With little warning Taj dug his hooves into the forest floor and bolted, dodging trees and branches that hung in his path. He only stopped when he charged into the gathering of his brothers. Dirt flew as his hooves bit into the forest floor and he skidded haphazardly to a halt just short of Evers. His head flew up, his eyes white ringed and his body lathered in sweat. It was very unlike him, but Tajheri said nothing to any of his brothers, as his panicked mind only replayed the awful scene over and over again.
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