let's begin feeding the sickness; any

[The Tin Man]

Hearts will never be practical,
until they can be unbreakable.
(But I still want one.)

Ischia wasn't too bad, The Tin Man mused as he trekked through the water. The sand was tricky to walk in, and the seawater glowed at night with the not-quite-plants that sometimes stuck to his hooves, but it was also pretty quiet.

Something drifted on the wind--a reptilian LIZARD scent that he very seldom encountered, but he did know the tangy notes of sickness and made a note to stay on guard if it ended up closer than he thought. The splashing that he heard, sluggish but steady, didn't help his nerves: This lizard was BIG, so no way was it related to the ones that skittered around and ate leaves or bugs.

But then some different splashing, a wave of unexpected magic-scent, and a small, female shriek made him pin his ears back. He headed towards the commotion at a canter, with the water and sand slowing him down--he didn't like the smell or sound of whatever was stalking in the water, but he also didn't want it near a foal if he could help it.

So The Tin Man arrived to find a shivering, wet filly standing frozen in the water, eyes locked on a third creature.

"Ohhhhhhh no." His black tail swished, and now all the weird magic-sick-PREDATOR smells were running together full-force, but he waded up towards the filly regardless. "Honey, we need to get to the shore, come on!"

Yep, this was a big-ass lizard.

The Tin Man