[AW] Out of a misty dream

[Asterion]

Asterion in sunshine and in shadow* He has lost his fondness for the night. In recent weeks the stars are no longer a comfort, their constellations only a map to memories that wound. Always before he had lingered long beneath the moonlight, following his feet and untangling his thoughts with only the company of the stars and the wind and the cool press of darkness. Now it only reminds him how lonely he is, and how wrong he had been. So he is glad that it is daylight as he winds his way along the stream, the last of the bright festival flowers still tangled in his mane. He has never been before to Amare, but it lies between his home and the Dawn Court, and the bay is in a mood for wandering. It would be lovely indeed, if only he could forget the winking whispers of what the location is often used for. The creek leaps and laughs and babbles alongside him, a constant companion uninterested in his responses. The trees bar him with shadow as he walks, and birds warble overhead as beatifically as any of the festival singers. For all of the peace of the day his mind is still a messy thing. In a last effort to distract himself, Asterion steps into the creek, stepping carefully on slick stone as cold water rushes around his ankles. He lets himself think of only this: the placement of each hoof, the icy chill of the water, the white-noise wash of it. He images each of his worries falling like petals onto the smooth surface and being whisked away, further and further downstream until they are at last washed out to sea. It works until he sees the willow.   The last one he’d stood beneath had concealed a unicorn with a heart of a lion. It had witnessed a reunion that had raised a mix of emotions that were becoming too familiar – joy and shame and damnable hope. For a long moment he stands before it, just out of reach of the ropey limbs that trail slender leaves, and feels the water that tugs him onward. And then he steps out of the stream and up the stony bank, dreamer’s heart wishful of one more discovery. With a breath he walks between its branches and into the dappled shade. At first his mind doesn’t know what to make of it, the figure lying on the grass: her hair becomes sea-foam, her silver-scattered hide soft dawn on the waves. But then his vision adjusts, and his flighty head settles, and he becomes aware of his intrusion. Asterion’s dark gaze falls to the veiled face of the stranger, and finds just a glimpse of her opalescent eyes. “Oh,”  he says. @Myfanwy