I'm breathing in the smoke of my mental illness's cigarette // ANY/Leilan

[Trekori]

Trekori

i'm freezing, it's not winter yet
but my fingers and toes
are shivering beneath these sheets
and i feel so alone
i don't want to die, i want to sleep

There's someone already at my little creek by the time I come across it.

He is silver and bay, a combination that my scouring purple eyes admire, though in truth I am not seeking company today. I am too cold, too hungry. But I am also thirsty, and at this point, it is too late for me to turn around and find a different place to quench my thirst. I clench my wings to my small ribs - I am nearly a yearling now, but undersized. Still, there is a gleam to my golden patches - and to the deep pools of my eyes.

"Pardon me," I murmur as I come up next to him, feeling the size difference between us painfully. Yes, I am young, but still. This stallion looks strong, virile, like he could knock me out in a single kick. But I put some energy into my wings, and make the glow of my root-like horn stronger - readying myself for the worst to come.

I lift my nose from the cool creek, water dripping from my tapered lips. I squint at the stranger, really seeing him for the first time. There's something about the roaning of his bay coat, about the way his head and eyes are shaped...

"I'm Trekori, son of Noori and Trekk. Do I know you?"