Were it not for the clouds distorting the black of her coat, Onni may have fled once again from the mare who arose. Her movement caught the attentive pale sky eyes of the mare. They flitter toward the girl's face, meeting a laugh even as her aria to the lost was over. Her prayer would not reach the Sun, for he was busy fighting his own demons right now. It had reached the laughter of this mare, but for some reason, the good natured healer would not laugh or smile in return. Normally, Onni would be more easier to get along with.

Instead of feeling comforted by the sound of chimes, the painted girl felt oddly mocked. The words which fell next, too, seemed to question her wisdom. Onni certainly would not call herself wise, but she found it odd that this girl would be so frank when she had never met her before. What would she know of her life? On her shoulder, the songbird chirps uneasily.

Onni's tail snaps, but she lets out a sorrowful sigh.

"Sunlight," she says, her voice woeful and quiet. "I seek the pale light which heals the wounds both physical and mental. I need the light which chases away the shadows." Open and honest, much like the heart which beats rapidly in her chest. If this stranger had met the shaman on any other day, perhaps Onni would be able to offer her a smile and friendship, even a helping hand with any injuries. However, now she only stared morosely at the orange fire pluming smoke into the sky rid of stars.

What would not trouble those who are left without guidance? The heart of the mare swells, and a heavy sigh escapes her lungs again. A pale face staring emptily forward. Death was coming to Helovia, and shouldn't this mare be more concerned? Instead of chiding her with light-hearted sentiments, this black and white lady should be fleeing to her home. Looking over her shoulder, toward her own home, Onni can see the pillar of fire in the distance, like a streak of light across the sky. The pillar which was unreachable. The weak knees holding her up and the uneasy intake of breath would not carry her there. The wings upon her back would also not last. She needed to gather her wits and courage.

Still, Onni wished that her beloved friends were here to help her battle the shades that await her in the darkness. She wished Moth was here to keep her safe and calm her nerves.

Turning an innocent face toward this new mare - Kahlua, the painted girl lets out quietly, "Death. The dead, the missing, the lost. This is what troubles me." A small smile on her lips, the shaman begins to quiver. "So many ghosts that haunt the world come out to play at night. You wouldn't believe it." Maybe she sounds crazy.

Of course she would, to someone who did not see it with their own eyes.
""