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.