Sacre watched as snow turned to thick forest and cold fog, a landscape completely unknown to him which warranted a shiver in fear. The young colt had thought that maybe one day he would travel this road to the edges of the misty lands to find Mr Lace and to gaze upon the place that had once been the home of his father. This, however, was a rather premature trip that took him away from everything he knew and from all things that he understood to be safe. After all, wasn't the Worlds Edge the enemy. Even though Sacre was skeptical about it after meeting two of their members, these were still horses who had gone to war and perhaps even killed. That thought alone was enough to send shivers of fright through his young bones. All of a sudden he felt his throat catch, thinking all he had to do was wake up from a bad dream and mother would be there or Roux. Aramis would be on guard just outside their cave and father would be drifting somewhere in the darkness of the Basin. Lids squeezed shut and for as long as he could he denied what was happening, it was all a dream, all he had to do was wake up. Yet, every time he opened his eyes he was met with the same scenery and the same sickening, cold fear.

The moon shone brightly in the ever dark sky, this was her domain after all and she looked on in ominous silver. Woody scents drifted around his nostrils, the trees were more like inky outlines marred by thick, soup like fog. It was almost like walking into a graveyard, the shadows played on his innocent eyes and his mind made up shapes in the fog that made his breathing accelerate. The perfect setting to a child's nightmare. Ice coloured pools sought the form of his captor, both crimson and coal lobes laid back against his head as he dared part lips to utter a few shaky words. "W-why? W-who are you?" Was about all he managed. Sacre of course knew about the Dragonheart, he knew vaguely who she was, but the colt had never met her and never dreamed her would. She was like a legend to be scared of, a wanted mare for her crimes against the unicorns of the Basin. The child, however, would not recognize her by appearance or scent and all he knew was that some mysterious figure had abducted him from the place he called home and taken him here. A place that almost seemed to choke him with it's eeriness.

His heart hammered somewhere in his chest, loud in his ears and his tail had become rigid with dread.

(@[Mirage])
Words: 463

Whispers in the dark
Steal a kiss and you'll break your heart

"My name is Rishima. Nobody here will hurt you."

I am glad I told Kali to keep you away from this. The colt shivers upon the ground, far too young to understand the mess he has been born into, an innocent in all this. His fear is justified, I suppose; I do not know what stories the unicorns tell about us, but I imagine they are not so far from those we whisper of them. Enemies since before our children were born, we are parents dragging our progeny into a war no one can win. Shamelessly we fuel the hatred within the hearts of our youth- yea, even we who call ourselves all-accepting do this, we who hold ourselves above the standards of our enemies. No, we have not killed in cold blood, and I have not forgotten the deaths - Solstice, Torasin, horses I once called friend now broken and bleeding upon uncaring ground. Those atrocities do not rank upon our list of sins.

These do.

Tandavi, I keep you away because you would not understand, just as this colt does not understand. You sleep in a cave and dream children's dreams, your imagination running rampant with dragons and magic and gods know what else, while Kali watches over you with a watchful eye. I never want you to experience the fear I can feel radiating off this bloodstained child. It's so tempting to tap into his soul, get a glimpse of everything going on inside him, but I resist. You hate it when I look into you. I don't want to do anything to frighten this damned innocent any further. I don't even want to be here. How does one talk to a child who has no idea of the sins committed by his family, the crimes passed down through his blood? Hell, how does one talk to a child?

I imagine it's you, and will my voice to be gentle. Deep. Soothing. The voice I use when I want you to sleep. "I wish I could tell you that we brought you here for a good reason, but I cannot." I sigh, shifting, ivory forelock falling into my dark eyes. One of the colt's ears is red. It reminds me of you. I focus on that and go on. "You're part of a war that started long before you were born. All of us are. Your herd hurt us, and so we've hurt them back by taking you. It's not a nice thing; it's petty. A stupid battle for a stupid time. But such is life." Does he understand? I imagine you would, but then again I always project an intelligence upon you that I'm not sure you possess. Perhaps I am simply scaring him further. How should I know? It is long since I was a child.

I am trying to be kind. "I've told you my name. How about you tell me yours?" The child's name does not matter, but giving him some importance does. I've been careful to stay back from him, to give him space to acclimate; I could easily run him down should he attempt to run, though I'm not sure I would want to. Now I take a step forward, letting the moonlight fall across me, bounce upon my mane and dance down my tail. I do not like to think of how I look to him, even as I try to offer an encouraging smile. I have been called imposing, authoritative, intimidating, even attractive - but not for a long time have I been accused at putting others at ease. Still, you have softened me up a bit in the seasons since your birth, my little Tavi; perhaps I can project some of that softness into the impression I give this colt. One can only hope.

@[Sacre]
[ ooc | Sorry this took so long Imi! Rishi's be taking over as Sacre's guard since Whit's got a lot on her plate right now. ]