Eventually Grey unroots himself from his place on the bank of the river, tearing white eyes away from the reflection he sees. After awhile it had stopped looking like him, though does he truly look like himself anymore at all? The blurriness encompassing the edges of his vision encroaches and then retreats with every step, fluctuating in intensity. The black shadows are beasts, clawing at his skin and begging for his blood. The unicorn thinks he starts to feel a pounding in his head, like a giant bashing down the walls of his mind. Boom, boom, boom.
He follows the river’s winding path through the trees, listless, ears twisting at every sound. Oh, he is still a soldier somewhere deep inside, and though he walks almost aimlessly, he is still too alert of his surroundings. Too aware of the stillness and every sound that breaks it. Part of his expects that there should be more noise in the night, and yet the forest is almost sedate. It unsettles him, a strange pressure settling between his shoulder blades and brushing across his nerves.
Ahead Grey thinks he sees where the river breaks the canopy cover. Perhaps, he thinks, this river will lead him somewhere afterall. Perhaps he might find someone capable of telling him where he is and where he should be headed. His chest expands and then releases and slow, heaving breath, and still his sight swims and dances and still his head pounds and pounds and pounds so that when one of the shadows seems to rear out of nowhere to Grey’s left and he turns to face it, his hoof catches on one of the rocks claiming the edges of the river. His heart crashes and falls as he, too, begins to fall. He throws his legs out in front of him, scraping against stone, in an attempt to catch himself.
@Mateo
