Rey
He’s been here … and there. He’s alive and so am I, but we’re both dead. He says I don’t make sense but really, he’s the confused one. How to explain? I can’t. I simply can’t explain through my chattering teeth or the heavy flood of tears. Instead I allow for the breakdown to happen, sobbing in quiet mews of anguish when he questions Pangea’s rising. “She took from me, she took my wings.” I think without speaking, lamenting the loss of my freedom.
In quiet, Arthas moves to comfort me and I jerk unconsciously away. I wish that I were a stronger sort of horse, that I could withstand what’s happened to me and turn the sacrifice into a lesson. It would be all the better, however I’m a mare that’s been too settled on her identity for too long, so finding another one post-quest will come as a hardship.
I can certainly try, though. Give enough of myself to stand calm while he wraps his gray neck around my own, even if I’m screaming internally. He’s so good too, just how I remember … whispering reassurances to me when I question our reality and my own life. I think that perhaps I can make it, maybe I just might be strong enough on my own, until he mentions the River.
“NO.” I hiss, this time tearing away from his embrace to backpedal a few steps. I’m a horrible wreck of a creature, in need of a bath for sure but I’ll be damned if I put one fatal hoof into water again. “Please no.” I try again, much softer in my approach with a drooping head and ears. “I know—“ cough, cough “—that you’re trying to help but I can’t.” I plead with him, inching closer with an unsteady shake of my knees.
A deep longing for normalcy overcomes me in that instant, lifting my cold, flint-colored eyes up to meet his pitiful gaze. “Tell me … talk to me about Mary. About Sylva. Has anything changed? Is our girl alright?” I wonder, unusually concerned about the filly I’ve let run wild.
don't go screaming if I blow you with a bang
@[Arthas]