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The only constant she had in her life was Pan. The colt was there, no matter what the issue, no matter what the time. She had come to truly appreciate that – the fact that he was always there. It worried her, too, though. All of the ones she cared about died – or forgot about her. She calmed when he approached her, but was still far from coherent. She could feel him touching her, trying to find out her injuries – and in truth, hers were minor. A couple cuts on her legs from falling, and the joints were swollen, but nothing that wouldn’t heal on their own in time. Her newest wound was again mental. She could see him falling; disappearing from sight. He told her to stay back; and then he was gone, swallowed up by this wretched place. The place that was supposed to be her home. Sacred. Safe. It took quite some time for her to have a rational thought. She had heard Pan ask if she was ok, but was unable to respond. He would understand that she was not alright; that something was seriously amiss. But once she was capable, she spoke to him. ”Only. He’s dead.” Her tone was flat, emotionless. She felt empty, drained of everything that made her what she was. What an awful feeling, yet she couldn’t shake it. In time, she would be fine; but not tonight. ”It’s my fault. He fell off the mountain.” She assumed Pan would try to make her feel better and tell her how it wasn’t her fault, but it was. ”He fell. His foot was trapped under some rocks. I moved the rocks, and he fell.” She looked up at her friend, a haunted expression on her face. She couldn’t stop seeing him; the last rock moving, exposing his broken leg, and then he was moving away from her, sliding, falling. ”It’s my fault.” She stopped for a minute, her body now shaking. She wasn’t cold, but the shock had sunk in deeper now. ”You should go. You’ll end up dead, too.” She tried to walk away from him, scared that some harm would befall the only friend she had left in this world. ”Speech” |
 | Silver chain from the pirate siren | Blue Macaw feather in mane | |
@Pan
