I'm drinking.

It might have been nice if it was something a bit, heavier than water, but water will do. Likely it's the best at easing my troubles anyway, though I could say the same for any drinking cause, save perhaps courage. Water is sorely lacking in the courage providing aspect.

It does strengthen me however. That's why I'm lingering here like a dark ghost. I have half a mind to just lay down in the stream beyond the bushes and sleep there. I know that wouldn't do though. My ink would start to bleed out into the water and my skin would shrivel up something awful. no no I'm happy enough to sip. Although, frankly, I do much more than sip. I slurp the water up like a dehydrated camel, but luckily none are around to witness such atrociousness.

It is with this type of mindset, satisfied and gorged on water, that I meander around this Thistle not far from the bank. I'll call this place home until the heat breaks, or until I melt, either way. I try my hoof at grazing a bit when someone comes careening into me like a panicked bird. I'm dazed as I fall, completely overhauled at my feet. And I do hear the rustle of feathers and cannot help but wonder what ludicrous bird actually ran me over.

Before I can even situate up from down another set of hooves has come with a sharp voice. Though I'm still shaking the stars from my eyes, my ears are always attentive to speech and catch the rather obvious annoyance on the filly's lips. I nearly bristle with my own, outwardly blaming her for this entire thing just because she's there and I can.

I manage to right myself to a stand just in time to see...me. I gawk, literally gawk, slackjawed and wide-eyed as my reflection, my shadow, my body (am I a ghost, a spirit now?) walks towards the hot filly and reaches out to touch. Her teeth flash and bodies separate like a ripple in a stream. Now why would I do that? Why would I touch this rude stranger? Perplexed I watch in dumbfounded confusion as the second me proceeds to spiral into a panic-attack.

She seems at a loss to her lack of voice. My ears twitch, recalling now not just the tone of the other's words, but the meaning. Have either of you seen someone like me pass by?

I glance at my side where I'm still sitting in dismay and horror. I glance back at the pale filly who has grow increasingly exasperated by myself and I - I don't rightly blame her, here I am sitting calmly but uselessly, and there I am again sitting hysterically, but still uselessly - and she's begun to leave. My brain begins to connect everything.

Where is that damn bird that struck me anyway?

Thief! my mind screams, its own voice a pale whisper of a shout. That me stole me! And before that stole this filly! I'm blindsided by the realization and I stagger for a moment, overwhelmed by the notion of all this. The girl is leaving though and I suddenly delve into a panic attack myself. I don't want to be left here with an insane, thieving me! My eyes widen and my head thrusts up as I jerk forward and cut off the pale girl, stomping my feet on the ground as if I expect her to know some sort of Morse code even I don't know.

My throat is slack. My tongue, it swirls around my cheeks and against the back of my wet teeth. For once, I recall, I am not dreadfully thirsty.

Over ecstatic I whip my tail around with unnecessary fervor and begin to illustrate myself grazing and the filly, the thief dressed as the filly anyway, I presume, crashing into me and -gasp! - turning into me too!

I glance knowingly up at the girl as my hectic design splatter back to the ground. Thirsty I may not have been but am now, my magic pulling all the fluid from me. She must understand I've not the strength left to tell her more. More importantly she must help! Surely she knows more about this if she was already chasing the thief. All I want is to go back to drinking.