"A one, two, three, four. A one, two, three, four!" Was the sound that rippled out of a pleasantly smiling maw, that belonged to a happily prancing stallion, who sang his number song to the beat of his hooves. His movements chopped and changed, shortening his stride before lengthening it, his song switching tempo to match each precise movement. He carried on like this for sometime, not noticing the air heating up around him, too oblivious and caught up in his imaginary world of floating castles and soft, pink clouds. A world of a mad horse, an innocent mad horse who had lost his head a long time ago when visiting the tiny fairies. Well, that was the story the Niceshade believed and he was a very nice shade at that. His tail perched high in the air and tassels of black rippled attractively as a mass of mane adorned his handsome neck. Glass horns so delicate on his childlike face as dual coloured gems followed the flight of a blue butterfly that flittered nearby, he marvelled at it's beauty and then continued onwards. Blissfully unaware that another lay in his path.

He was made aware, however, when he almost bumped into a black mare with pretty feathers. d'Artagnan fumbled over his own cloven hooves and tripped up a few times until he finally managed to stop his dancing prance a few beats away from Psyche. Bringing himself to a rather graceful stand considering, which he inwardly congratulated himself on before turning shyly to look at the strange mare he had bumped into. "Uhm, eh sorry. Home? Is this your home? My home is in the sky, a giant castle that floats by itself! I can never find it though, it keeps running away from me every time I get near it. I wonder why that is..." His voice trailed off in sadness, if only he had wings and then he could fly after it. That would be excellent. Then he could finally become a King and be loved by all who lived among the fluffy pink clouds. The red boy almost drifted off further into his made up world, but he remembered that he was not alone and instead his gaze zoned in on the strange newcomer with funny squiggly markings.

"You look strange" he laughed, even though the question wasn't directed at him and instead at the mare with the pretty feathers called Psyche. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew he belonged somewhere else in a land much colder than this place, but reality was such a hard world to live in. It was much better away with the fairies. Where he could be d'Artagnan the Niceshade and not d'Artagnan the Nightshade. The latter sounded creepy.

He looked at the strange marked Friesian mare with blatant curiosity before stepping back and raising a brow. "Do you think there is something wrong with her? Maybe's she's ill?! Yet... Yet she doesn't look ill" his voice cracked and panicked as he ran over to Psyche with fear in his eyes. He'd never seen an ill horse before, so how was he meant to know if one was ill?! She could be dying right in front of him and all he was doing was standing around. He quivered as he looked over the black mare, unsure what he was looking for. "Are you ill? You don't look ill! But you could be..." His voice quailed and as it trailed off he attempted to pick up a piece of her mane as if examining it.

What should he do?!