There was not enough cold in the world to kill the fire sparked within my breast.

Dark hooves carried me away, north, towards cold, towards something that might quell my increasingly incensed mind. Within me, a storm of white heat raged. Passion. Fury. Fire. Embers shifted, blown, ignited; the gentle, constant coals that sat at the base of my soul piled high with fuel, until at last they could not but catch fire and burn, burn, burn in a frenzied blaze that threatened to destroy the carefully constructed calm I so easily donned. It rested gently upon my shoulders, my shroud of halcyon, a comfortable cloak of shade and cool. My shield. My disguise. I stood ensconced behind the facade of indifference, letting the outside world see little more than a glimmer of refracted emotion allowed to escape through narrow fissures, uninvited and unmonitored.

Yet there were times when a the outside world would perforate my carefully maintained demeanor. A crack became a tear, and a tear evolved into a gaping hole, a cruel laceration from which raw, sickly emotion bubbled and welled, seeping into the world like a viscous poison, slowly threatening to overtake me, to weave its venom into my words, drag its claws through my mind and ride cackling upon my thoughts. Visceral, vengeful, inconsiderate, it would begin as an itch I could not scratch, a pricking at the base of my cerebral cortex, a spasm of the shoulder I could not subdue.

The force of my movements was telling, the arcs imprinted by thunderous hooves into dry and dusty earth too deep, too staunch against a backdrop of dried grasses and musty stone. Each beat upon the earth propelled me forward, further and further, fast and ignorant of surroundings, of followers, of day or night. Only the ardent press of welling emotion against the back of my skull directed me, the desire- nay, the need for release guiding me like the strings of a marionette. And oh, how I loathed it, the controlling grip of a diseased mind, the poignant medley of sorrow and disgust, of doubt and desire, of rejection and want.

Motions are shaky, spindly legs skid to a stop; at last, I found myself on ground that would not balance me, treacherous ice atop exposed stone, grooves and ruts snaking across its crystalline surface, wells of chilled, stagnant water resting within flawed claws of dirty ice. Lungs expanded, contracted, pulling painfully at my ribcage as though seeking to mangle the delicate musculature which held my body in place. Quivers shook the sinewy frame as wind would a tree. Exhaustion clawed at my body, while energy worked to breach the carefully constructed beams of sanity that still held my mind in place.

A few more steps; they were all I needed. A touch more control, a dash of restraint, and I would find myself beneath the frozen arch. Just a little more. Just a little closer.

The sudden change in temperature buffeted me, crisp and frozen air as welcome as my mother's embrace would have been, my father's blazing affection. Voraer. Anei. Damn it, why did I think of them? Induced by the memory of my deceased parents, the remnants of my calm began to crumble. Frantic, needy, I clung to the fragments of my cloak, willing myself to relax, to reign in the impending onslaught, the self-inflicted torment. I suffered, I fought, and there was nobody who knew, nobody who saw. A fierce battle raged behind onyx eyes, and the tears won, and suddenly they were there, the deluge of saline that could not be stopped. All I had, now, was time.

Defeated, I felt my knees give. Mass shifted against the glacial wall, dislodging small icicles and absorbing deliquesced crystal like a chill blanket. The shock of the ice upon my belly was numbed by the agony of my perturbed mind; indeed, I welcomed the feeling, relishing the sharp pain. It dulled my thoughts. It helped me forget.

Forget that I was alone.

I was so long alone.

Minutes dragged by, seconds leaving the strain of hours; the tears stopped, and dried, and soon there was no sign of my turmoil but the prone pose I maintained. With the release of my tribulation, I regained the ability to stretch my thoughts, to reflect on the stupidity of my actions, my thoughts, my feelings. How long had it been, since I had an episode of this magnitude? Not since coming to Helovia - what foolishness, then, that I should be struck down now! I had thought myself above such weakness, had found security in the facade of calm detachment so easily donned. Abhorrence clamored against my mind, fury and disdain for my own malaise. I loathed myself for this, for the emotion that ruled me in these wild moments, for the defective nature of my own brain. I despised it, my loneliness, yet it seemed I could entice none but my siblings to stand beside me... and even they were too busy with their lives to note the turmoil that destroyed me. Selfish, I was selfish for wanting them to care, yet I could not suppress the desire. It gnawed within me, fighting my fears, and neither could win. So long had I been alone, that I did not realize how deeply I yearned for closeness until I discovered I could not have it - not the way my siblings did. Mirage had Akaith, and Vikram, and her Qian; the twins had each other; I had...

A name pops into my head, and a bright figure of burnt mahogany - why? Why did I torment myself with the memories of what I could have had, the memories of what I failed to hold on to? Friendship, love, I pushed it away. It was no wonder I found myself alone now. Who in their right mind would stay by my side long enough to discover something worth loving?

Angry, brooding, I lay upon the frozen ground, crown nestled against curled forelegs, tail lashing impetuously at bent hocks, colliquated water the only sound in the frozen blue.

Drip, drip, drip.

[ ooc || Uh, open if anyone wants it. Sorry for long angsty!Rishi post ]

Harsh and jagged flinch tears through my muscle as her hooves echo through the chasm, a sudden wave of fury surging through my veins, making me hot, hot, so hot with irrational anger and something else, something even worse. Envy. She was everything I could not be.

She had everything I wanted.

I knew it was her, and I knew that she had arrived because she sensed my need, and it only hurt more. Her dulcet nature, her pure affection; sharp as daggers, the kindness she would offer prematurely slashed through the musculature of my heart, swords of mephitic solicitude that stung more fiercely for my blooming desire to reach out and take her comfort. I longed to hold her, and yet I shuddered at the idea of her sympathy. I would be strong for my little sister, not let her see me cocooned in despair. I loathed that she should find me like this, and I loathed myself more for my inability to contain the pain.

Even as Mirage circled round to where I stared, aimless, I shifted away. So wild were the suddenly rekindled emotions within my breast, I could not bear to look at her, to let her see the depth of sorrow in my eyes. Her shadowy presence weighed against me, and I tightened myself, drawing away, flush against the frozen wall as though seeking to delve into it. Perhaps the heat of my temper could ravage the molecules of the ice around me and forge a hole in which I might vanish.

Childish thoughts, childish emotion. And yet I clung to the anger, for as long as I remained shrouded in that, I would not be able to mourn. The memories of one loved pressed harsh against my mind, the idea of the loneliness that awaited me outside this frozen cave a cold and perilous gnaw against my growing control. A deep breath is taken, the frozen air burning against my lungs, the excruciating thrill of ice flowing down my swollen throat somehow satisfying. Muscles relaxed, slightly; mind fluid now, expanding back into the embrace of Mirage, but tentatively. Despite some amount of regained control, I remained volatile. I let my face move, search, and rest upon the ice, the bite of frigid atmosphere pleasant against my the flush of my cheek.

The soft thud of footfalls breaks my distracted concentration, forcing me into abrupt movement. Form shifts onto bent knees even as the winged cat slinks into view, straightening into a dizzy stand. Legs wobble, threatening to throw me back onto the cold ground even as the world spins around me; I stumble, catch myself, righten. Eyes and brain connect, the throbbing against my cranium eases, and now I am caught in the awkward expanse of emptiness that follows one of my breakdowns. I want to say something, to shatter the stupor of brooding misery I have set myself in, and yet my tongue lies heavy and useless against my gums. Instead, I wait, still resentful of the defensive stance Mirage has taken, yet somehow aware that I would be grateful for her presence once my anguish drifted away. I wish to apologize, for what I know not. For letting myself be seen like this? For forcing them to witness my anguish? For not being good enough, never being good enough? And yet all of these things are beyond my control, and I know it, and it infuriates me that I cannot make everything right.

A great weight of sorrow settles upon my shoulders, and my gaze drifts back to the bright spot of open sky that lies beyond the lip of the cave. Irises softened by tears direct themselves towards the gryphon again, light slowly edging back into their dark depths, and suddenly I laugh, harsh and self-depricating and just too on edge. For what else was I to do? The situation is so comical, Mirage and I and a predatory gryphon who perhaps saw us as a tasty morsel. It is only a brief explosion of mirthless noise, lulling quickly back into silence as I shift my gaze towards the melting ceiling, blinking as a droplet lands directly on my nose. "Lovely day, isn't it?" is murmured at last, bitter and coarse vocals fighting against condensation to make their way into the stagnant air, eyes clenched gently against the shame of my emotion, tears once more threatening to escape from darkened orbs. The words are offered to the ice as much as Mirage or the gryphon, the child of an urgent need to escape this oppressive quietude. I shake my head, gently, and shift my weight, suddenly full of anxious energy. I needed to flee, to run, to fight, to laugh - anything, before the next onslaught of feeling threw me deeper into my pit of writhing depression.

I could feel the tension that suddenly gripped her, and I could sense when she chased it away, and it only served to force me deeper into myself.

She probably hates you. Everyone else does.

That's stupid. I'm better than this.

Are you?

The mental debate raging constant through the numb of my mind, I ignore it in favor of watching the discourse between shadow and gryphon. She is so much more aware of our surroundings, my little Mirage, caution in her voice where I exhibited none. I berate myself mentally, dark caverns slashing back against ebon skull. Had it been I alone, the potential of a predatory attack would not have mattered... perhaps, even, the slash of claws across my chest, the thrill of a struggle for survival... would I welcome it? To feel something other than dead, to drag myself from the chains of my own despair; the idea appealed to a more morbid corner of my mind.

The foreign accent of the gryphon's lucid tones draws me away from my brooding, and for the first time I let my eyes focus on her, actually processing the strange creature before me. In the dim and eerie lighting, I vaguely recognized the leopard patterning on her rump. Avian forequarters, while also familiar, speak of bloodlines I cannot place. She was a decent size, not quite large enough to pose a threat to the both of us, but had I been on my own the odds might be tipped. I found it interesting, the claws of a bird she boasted in front; I had seen few of these creatures over my wanderings, but the pride I encountered demonstrated a far more feline nature.

For the first time since I found myself in this infernal cavern, my curiosity has resurfaced.

I shift uncomfortably as she begins her lecture, gaze shifting back to the circle of illumination marking the entrance to this infernally cold cavern. A flinch as the melting ceiling pellets my rump with plump droplets; spasms run through my figure, a shiver that travels from flank to shoulder. "It is hard to vent when you're not sure what is inside." Bland and colorless, my voice rebuffs her ideas of speaking; I have no interest in trying to explain the tumultuous emotions that every moment threaten to spill back across my mind. Indeed, I have reached a familiar point in my emotional meltdown - silence.

Emptiness threatens to consume me, and I threaten to let it.

The gryphon speaks again; I turn back to her, eyes still distant but now oh-so-slightly amused. Her apparently vigilante protection of we equines is both entertaining and touching - does she really think us so weak? "Seems like a good way to make enemies of your kind," I remark distantly; and then: "Why do you choose to guard us?" Vaguely, I reflect on the nature of my questions - an attempt to distract attention away from myself. I wonder if the gryphon will catch on. Even more, I wonder what Mirage will do.

Mirage. My dear sister. How have I hurt you, with my weakness and disquietude. Subtly, silently, I sidestep, seeking her shadowy figure with my own, both to give comfort and receive it. I nip weakly at her nape, forehead lingering against the warmth of her body, an attempt to convey that it's okay. I'm okay. Thank you. I love you.