In truth, the filly’s spirit was not well. In truth, it was needy and cold. The darkness did not make sense, but it had dampened the girl’s motivation. There was no end to the nothingness. And even darkness moved, relentless in a void that appeared to suck away all life within it.

But not you, girl. We have each other, and there ain't nothin’ in this world that can change that. You hear me? Nothin’ in this world. Now think about that before you go on cry’n like you lost everything…

But she had cried regardless, recalling hot tears that had stained her face. While the poisonous cocktail of hatred, shame and guilt spewed out; she thought about it. This subconscious attachment to ‘them’, or rather, ‘him’; by what powers in the world could separate them?

Before the night she had asked, and when we all die? She swallowed and glared wildly into his eyes. When you die and leave me?

Doesn’t change a thing. Had he been lying to her? Hell, you’re one of the luckiest girls… knowing what it’s like to be loved.

She failed to notice the sounds emanating from the brush. The sort of thing that could kill her, dozing off and allowing said phantom memories to rule her psyche. Perhaps she was truly tired and worn, forgetting that her body craved pure sleep and nothing less.

It was the murmur that drew her eyes to him. She must have known, in the back of her mind that if he was going to kill her she would have already found herself smack down against the cool ground. It was with a timid fierceness then that prevented her from retracting into the wood, away, and farther from the large creature. Her heart thudded against her chest regardless, and her breaths made a shaky exit. If she was going to die, if he was going to kill her, she was already a goner.

But as the seconds passed, failing to move away to scamper off in haste, the blood did not pour, her screams did not shamelessly beseech pity.

Amazing.

It truly was! She’d forgotten what it was like to meet a stranger who didn’t act on alternative motives (at least, for now).

And as she gazed after him; as if she’d seen the Gods themselves, she realized how unique and wonderful he appeared. For that moment she forgot the possible, wicked spirits that could exist in any creature, male and female… All she saw was the endless shades of brown (as much as she could make out in the dark), and the faint highlights of the feathers attached to his wings.

She ducked slightly as he shielded them from the wind. Flinching pleasantly from the change, finding herself in that moment to focus and kick her silly brain into proper working order.

“I have nowhere else to run…”

It was hard to speak. Her throat felt raw and dry, her lips heavy from the frost.

As soon as her voice carried out into the open, she continued to stare up into the eyes of the large stallion. Those eyes should have indicated that they expected more from the stallion; that she was waiting for something from him in particular. But these eyes did not prod the individual ahead of her, they did not plea, or cry out in desperation; help me! They were plain, truly shadowed by the matter-of-fact way they settled on his noble brow.