xxHauntedxx By -Mistakes-//Can you save me?

[Reflection]

S.ome S.ay M.istakes A.re H.armless
B.ut R.eally T.hey C.an T.ear Y.ou T.o P.ieces I.f Y.ou A.ren't C.areful

The land was dark and bitter cold in the absolute dead of the looming night. Darkness, and shadows crept across the lands, plummeting all into sillohuettes of darkness. Silence hovered, and everything was still. Not a sound was made exceot for the occasional howl of a wolf, or low hoot of a owl. Nothing sounded at this time. All was terrifyingly petrified. The thunder rumbled from afar and showed that a storm threatened. The threat was emphasized as harsh wind started tumbling through, whipping leaves from brances, and twigs from the ground, and blowing them in a flurry of chaos. The wind seemed to howl along, as the thunder grew louder, and suddenly there a flash as lightning struck in the distance. The flash was short and far away, but as slight as it was, the light bounced gleamingly off patches of white in the shadows, revealing a painted bodice, traveling in the shadows….

The painted vix kept her head level, and as the lightning flashed again, it glared off of her orbs, pronouncing their bright green hue. Finally when the vixen reached a suitable place in the clearing she turned and faced the uprising storm looming closer and closer. The lightning flashed again, this time followed by a sharp blow of thunder cracking like whips. Yet nothing stirred in the vixen’s orbs. Nothing. Her pelt stained glared off the light, it’s dousing tobaino black and whiter painted markings and slashes, the strikes of lightning dancing the light off and on her pelt. Long silky tresses cascaded from her neck like a sea of serpants, dangerous, and yet they held a refined beauty. Beauty. Yes, she had it. But she did not care. Too much had shrouded her sight and mischief.

She was torn to bits now. Beyond hurt. Beyond trust. What would become of her? By now, it hardly even mattered to her. She was so lost. Mistakes. She had made so many. So, so many. And those mistakes led to her very destruction. And her friend’s as well. Song was lonely, sad, depressed, and misunderstood now. And it was all this vixen’s fault. What was there left? What other terrors could the would force her through? Life had slashed so many knives through her, so many times, how much more could she take before she collapsed? To die….It had sounded horrid when she was in one piece, but now, it would almost be a relief. To be rid of this guilt, bitterness, and lostness. Although, the vix knew deep down that even death itself could never relieve the guilt.

So, the vix did not move, the vix she did not think—or rather if she did, she did not care. She did not know or care really why she was here, suffering in these memories. Some usually say to relieve the pain remembering the good, but for the vix, the good was the most painful--because it was gone. Pain. She had endured so much. So much betrayal. And it a;; had bee avoidable, but the vixen had been the one who controlled it, and lead to her doom. Not purposely of course. But by accident. A terrible terrible accident. And she could never take it back. Never. She could never go back and fix it. She was cursed to be haunted by the guilt of memories. Cursed to being lost.

Some say that the one thing that could solve any wound, was love….but as much as she could wish to love, she never would actually be able to… Because, she wasn't meant to love. She couldn’t be. For, How could one so absolutely cursed as her ever be meant to love?

[♥ A R i E L A]

OoC: plottage!!!

{{Your hands are shaking cold}}
{{These hands are mine to hold}}

Lightning crashed through the darkened sky and thunder pounded the drum of the heavens while the wind played the flute. Shadows stretched long and dark across the landscape, trees thin and ghostlike in the dead of the night. Every now and then, a low, haunted cry of a wolf pierced the nighttime air and a spooky hoot of an owl accentuated the dooming atmosphere of the night. Rain plummeted from the sky, daggers of liquid ice, piercing all who dared to step away from the shelter of the ghostlike trees, and the ground had begun to soften to a mucky quagmire which sunk a little deeper every time the lonely golden figure took a step forward. Head bent against the wrath of the storm, the stag trod slowly through the swamp-like ground and felt the cool mud sinking over his hooves and around his hocks, settling between the ebonite hairs and the sculpted grooves of his strut. Uncontrolled wind whipped shadowy tassels into his face, sharp and blinding as the pouring rain and he had to squint coffee brown opticals to see the first few feet ahead. It was completely by chance that those dark lanterns fell upon the shadowed form a painted femme, alone and forlorn in the sinister cast of the night.

As Blaze made his way towards the mare, thunder crashed in his auds and he could barely hear himself think. What was this fae doing so alone in the dead of the night, no less in the climax of a hellish thunderstorm? To be honest, the stag wasn't so sure what he himself was doing here, now. He certainly hadn't been looking to meet mares at this hour... so what had brought him here? To tell the truth, he had no idea. But whatever off-center reason had propelled the stag to come to this haunted place, it wasn't leaving anytime soon. And now, he had a better reason to stay. This mare, whether she had gotten lost near the claiming grounds and been unable to find shelter or she had become lost within herself and didn't care enough or know enough to get out the storm- for whatever reason she was here, she needed help. Whether she wanted to join his herd or not, Blaze couldn't care less. All he knew was that she needed help and that he knew how to give it- in most cases.

Experience had made Blaze an old hand at most tough topics, after suffering through his own horror of a past and helping Rose, Whisper, and Shadow cope with it all. But as much terrors as had entered the stallion's auds, every one struck a cord within him and tore at his heart. Somehow, the losses of those he spoke to and trusted became his losses, and as he helped them to come to terms with their past Blaze often found that he was banishing his own inner demon. He'd always had a passion of helping others, even if he never realized it till about a year ago. For a second, Blaze thought of the filly Radiance and his inexplicable urge to protect her from anything, help her with anything and let her stay alive and live a long and contented life. Whisper, the misunderstood fae, so desperate for someone to finally see the real her and Blaze so desperate to find out. Whisper... yes, he was sure now- there was something about her story which still haunted him. She had spoken of a betrayal, a betrayal which tore at her heart and broke her down, but besides that Blaze knew nothing else- had it been a mare or a stag who broke the innocent essa's heart, how they had done it, and where they were now. As much as Blaze tried to tell himself that such things were of no matter, it still tugged at his heart.

Upon reaching the fae, so alone and broken-looking in the heat of the storm, wind whipping at her tresses. At closer glance, Blaze was able to see that the femora had a painted pattern upon her white bodice and her lanterns glowed a rare and enchanting emerald like nothing Blaze had seen ever before. She had a rare, refined beauty which glowed in Blaze's eyes, but even as he took his first glimpse of this femme, he saw that her beauty was shrouded by a dark and looming secret of a past, something which had broken her down to something smaller than shattered glass. For a moment, Blaze was afraid to speak to her, afraid to glimpse the horrors which had befell her, because this mare was undoubtedly different from the rest. But even with his fear, Blaze knew he couldn't leave now- he'd gotten himself into this and he had to get himself out- with this mare. Before he could stop himself, Blaze opened his maw and let gentle words tumble out, soft and surreal in the wildness of the storm, and holding the essence of his heart.

Greetings, m'lady. My name is Golden Blaze, but most call me Blaze.

The stag paused for a moment, deciding what next to say. He wouldn't push to find her name, he'd let that come when she wanted it to. But what to say- he could ask her if she were lost, but if she was, how likely was it that she would tell the truth? He could ask her why she was here, but he didn't want to pressure her into revealing things that she didn't want to, not yet, not until he knew what she really needed. But even as he battled with his own thoughts, Blaze realized that none of these options felt quite right in his mouth, quite right for this fae, for this moment. And so he realized something that he hadn't realized before this day. Something which would be important for the future, something which he realized would have changed his life if he'd known it before.

[Reflection]

D.ancing G.hosts F.ill T.he M.ind,
S.ashaying T.hrough H.er H.eart
B.ut T.heir F.aces D.o N.ot S.mile
I.t S.hows T.he P.ain T.hey S.tart

As lightning streaked through the darkened skies, and thunder crashed violently into audition the vixen stood unmovingly. She did not think, and she did not care of anything. She was nothing. No, rather she was worse then nothing. For she was clearly not nearly lucky enough to be nothing. No…she used to be a butterfly, fluttering with secrets to tell, beautiful, true, and genuine…but one day that butterfly was lured and crushed, and all that remained of the butterfly in the end, was the dust of it’s wing… That’s what she was. The dust of a butterfly’s wing. A wretched thing, because it shows that a horror fell at once, and took toll quickly, while painfully destroying the beauty that was once was treasured with such pleasure. Gray and somber. There was nothing left for her. And death would be something she would most greatly appreciate. She had gotten over her days of taking her pain out on others for the purpose of relieving herself of it. Through, in the end that had only brought a worser bill anyway. No, now she had well…she didn’t quite know. And that’s what pained her so dreadfully. She was torn…she was a ragged thing, she was a old filthy ragdoll, lost after a hurricane and abandoned with no remorse, torn and tugged and ripped. She was a…oh, it matters not. For all this is describing is the fact that she is so horridly enough, Something, instead of nothing. …If she was nothing, then she would suffer no pain, she would no longer be haunted by memories. No longer…But that wasn’t what it was now was it? No... Through this realizations though she did not stir still. She stood. Rooted to the wretched earth of which she was bound to, Awaiting the death she yearned for so dearly…

P.iroretting U.p T.ill Dawn
S.creaming T.,hrough T,he Night
W.hisper O.f T.he D.ay
L.osing S.ense O.f M.ight

As Lightning flashed again and The thunder pounded through the cloaked skies, The tobaino pelt of the cursed vixon shone in a gleaming array, and her deep emerald chasms glowed with a rare hue, through it was plain as ever, the absolute pain the glimmered searingly underneath that hue. As the storm loomed closer the vixen watched it blankly, lost in something she knew not of. As the thunder crashed once more a streak of lightnings sliced down searing into a forlorn tree in the distance, lighting it in flames. As the flames slowly licked down the trees and ever so sluggishly slithered onto the grass, it seemed as if the whole meadow would in time become alit, until the rain came forth and doused the flames swiftly. No feelings stirred inside of the fae as the flames were doused, not relief, nor disappointment. Nothing. Suddenly though a new sound echoed through the vixen’s auds, pounding into her mind, until she felt as if she were about to fall into a never ending crevice to escape the pain, as a force of memoir dragged her helpless heart into another flashback…

“Greetings M’lady. My name is Indian Banner, but most call me Summer.” The glossy rose hued black femme sneered, mockingly imitating the handsome buckskin paint who had just spoken. The glimmer of soft and sweet teasing faded away instantly in his chasms, and a hurt gleam replaced it, as he nodded a farwell and cantered away hurt and confused. Disbelief struck the tobaino vixen who stood next to the rose hued fae, and she turned and exclaimed Salem! W-..What WAS That FOR!? Salem smirked and stated with pleasure at her friend’s confusion, swiftly sneering You LIKED him didn’t You Patronus? Well, I could expect no less. You do have no taste in what stags to like and flirt with, and which saps to have fun with by ruining their day, Well, anyway I must be leaving now, I’m meeting up with Sapphire later and you’re not invited, sorry, and I’ll talk to you later, Once you understand how much you should appreciate me for keeping you away from lame stags like that. Tears filled Patronus’s emerald chasms as she watched Salem prance away. And as Patronus stood watching pathetically she couldn’t help but wish that Whispered Song were here, though for quite some time now, Whisper had seemed to be avoiding her when she was around Salem. Though, if Whisper wasn’t going to be reasonable, then Patronus might as well keep hanging out with Salem, who actually was reasonable…Most of the time…Though... this all seemed too much for patronus at this time, and even through trying desprately to keep her emotions together, there was no stopping that one painful tear from slipping down her cheek…Another tear in the fabric…

As the vixen was plummeted back into reality, it took her a few moments to gather herself, and to think through things…What had triggered that flashback? Then as the lightning crashed again, the answer was revealed. Through the light of the streaks of lightning, a gleaming buckskin stag was revealed, his coffee orbs glittering with something Patronus couldn’t identify. Something stirred inside Patronus for a split second, before turning her glowing emerald chasms away from him and back to the heat of the storm. As the moments of scilence passed by, Patronus settled back into the scattered mosaic of dust that she was. Nothing, and yet something. And was empty. Hollow. She felt nothing again. And yet that was far from true, because she felt an immense amount of pain. So very much that she wouldn’t help but accidently let off guard for a second to relieve herself. Though in that one second, she caught another glimpse of the stag, standing so respectfully…And so, she turned her painfilled chasms to him in a blank suffering stare. She had simply meant to…well she didn’t know. Emotions that she held no control of had taken control in that on off guard second, and she couldn’t seem to get her bearings. Though through this rushed process of trying to stop the memories from flooding back, she took one moment to glance back at the stag and in that one moment, lightning struck in the background, illuminating the stag more, and so her gaze suddenly froze on him in disbelief. As lightning flashed again, the stag’s bodice seemed to mirage into the form of Indian Banner, the only horse she had ever truly loved, and she had loved him at first sight, as well as lost him at first sight. That sudden rememberence of pain and realization struck the voxen violently as she stared violently and suddenly her emotions overwhelmed her, tearing through her ruthlessly. And as they dragged her in through this stag’s gaze she suddenly broke free and ducked her head stumbling back, tears falling from her chasms.

B.ut C.onfusion S.rikes T.he D.ance
A.s A.nother F.ades B.ack I.n
M.emoirs L.ock T.hem I.n A. T.rance
A.s C.hasms C.hill T.heir B.ones

She stood silently, the tears falling softly, it had been such a long time since she had remembered Indian Banner. And she wished now, that she had never, never, never trusted Salem…but it was too late now. Though after what felt like hours the vixen raised her tiara painfully, and watched the stag with tear stained cheeks, and chasms welling with pain. As she watched him silently, suddenly she felt his words from before still hanging unnoticed, and she knew that those words were what had triggered the flashback. The words…and the voice. Blaze. Golden Blaze… As the vixen settled her pain glowing emerald chasms on his coffee orbs she suddenly felt the reality. She wasn’t having another flashback. As she was plunged into realization, she felt as if she had been drenched with ice cold water. Out of habit The vixen felt harsh bitter words forming juicily inside her maw, but the instant before she spoke them, words she had not depended on tumbled out instead, for they were the true words she needed to know.

Why Are You Here?

She asked the pain vibrating clearly in her tonation. Because honestly, why was he here? Why was he bothering? Why was he here in this storm? Why did he bring her these strange emotions? These questions flooded her mind in a fury of pain. She just wanted to die. So why did fate decide to torture and taunt her with signs of life? Why couldn’t she rid herself of this pain? As lightning streaked down once again the question that struck her the deepest took place in her heart, and as she replayed it, it quivered in fear, Why did he feel like Whisper?

A.s T.he C.old W.ind S.weeps T.hem F.orth
D.isaster S.rikes T.he S.oul
I.ce S.rikes T.he H.eart
A.s p.ain G.rabs H.er , T.aking T.oll

[♥ A R i E L A]

Pain flashed in the femora's deep coffee opticals, pain which was a memory of the past, a memory of the present, a memory of the future, a memory of her life. Broken and torn apart, Blaze knew that there was nothing left for this fae... that she could see. But there was something left, if she would only reach out and take it, take the light offered to her, look back at the light at the end of the tunnel and know that it would still be there and however hard to reach, it was reachable and in the end it would all be worth it. But she was so broken, Blaze didn't know how but something had destroyed this fae, whether it be alive or dead, equine or human, love or hate, life or death. Honestly, it didn't matter what it was. It was clear as he gazed into those sorrow-filled eyes- she was hurting bad.

He took a moment to ponder her words, so harsh and simple and vibrating with pain. Why are you here? Why are you here? Why are you here? Honestly, Blaze wasn't quite sure why he was here. he had no idea. He'd wondered this before, and still no reasonable answer had come to him. It was stormy and dark and terrifying- a night of death and terror if there ever was one. Why was he here... it was a good question, and a nearly unanswerable question. It was as if the mare had read his mind and and chosen to ask the question which would confuse him the most. Why are you here, Blaze? You must have some reason to have come here on such a night, come on, think. he prompted himself, tried to think, he wanted so desperately to answer her question but the answer wouldn't come. His mind was blank. Why he was here was something which wouldn't be, probably couldn't be answered. It wasn't a big deal really, he tried to tell himself. But she asked it. If she asked it, it must be a big deal. he was staring to think of her as someone amazing, someone who's questions were questions that had to be answered and they were also the best questions one could think up. What was wrong with him? He wasn't falling love yet... was he? How could he be- they'd only just met! Something was wrong. Maybe he hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. He only wanted to help her, not fall in love. But then, his mother's words, so sad and longing came echoing back... Love holds no reason... it was true. Love held no reason, but that didn't mean it had to happen all the time. It can't be that common, falling in love with a mare, otherwise every stallion would be staring after basically every mare in the world like she was the hottest thing since sliced bread. But no- he couldn't be falling in love now, not yet. He hardly knew her, and anyway, Blaze had never believed in love at first sight. It was probably just her question. It was driving him insane and his brain was getting all woozy and feeling like he was in love just because he was wracking it for a decent answer. But he wasn't going to find a decent answer- he knew that much. Maybe it was better to just tell her the truth- like he always did. Maybe it was better to just pretend like it didn't matter, ignore that funny feeling, those familiar yet strange thoughts that she was the best... but if she was, she deserved the best. And hat was the truth. What was he thinking? He'd never been this confused before. Something was wrong. Something bad. Or good. He didn't know. All he knew was that she was right there. Right there, looking at him and she had asked and he didn't know... oh nuts, what the hell was wrong with him? He had to answer, he had to answer. Why was he here...

I... honestly, I don't know.