The Ruins seemed like such an appropriate place to begin a new life. No real closure, overall emptiness, and a sneaking suspicion that no one would really care to bother him. Hackjob gazed around rather unbothered, unhurried, and rather unimpressed in general. It never really mattered what brought you to a knew place, did it? Some people fled from their homes for freedom. For the taste of a life they knew full and well they were never going to attain chained to the place where their deepest ties and secrets were held. Some people left because they were restless. Some left to chase their dreams, to attain everything in life they knew they were destined to achieve. The worst of it all was, some left for love. Those ignorant, blinded fools would actually chase love anywhere it went. Hackjob, of course, would never be that foolish. Or so he told himself. The truth was she was always grasping tightly to the back of his mind. Many times he found himself forgetting to breathe, or walking for miles and miles at a time without noticing his surroundings.


You see, he'd been dissociating from place to place since her. And although most found him to be horribly boring, annoying and dull even, he simply could not find it in himself to care anymore. In fact, he'd all but forgotten what emotions felt like in general. His dappled green skin shuddered, and as he finally started actually surveying his surroundings, he was made suddenly aware that it was indeed, winter. He paused briefly, eyes rolling upwards as he tried to recall how long exactly he'd been walking. How far back he'd left her. But the months meant nothing and knees were beginning to buckle. 


With a more than dramatic sign he sank to his knees, rolling his body onto it's side and settling rather uncomfortably into the hard terrain. He perched his head up on a nearby bolder, allowing the heavy chill of the wind to sweep through his mane slap it violently on his neck. Sunken gray and bloodshot eyes darted back and forth as he tried gathering his surroundings. Wherever the hell he was, his past did not seem to be present. After what felt like hours of shallow breaths and jerky head motions, his limbs finally succumbed to exhaustion, and Hackjob decided this would be a fine place to sleep.

His gray eyes remained trained on her as she gazed around. Something about this equine seemed far more interesting than the world unfolding before him. When her gaze returned, only then did he humor her by moving his head from side to side, letting out a long whistle. ”Privacy is for those who have something to hide..” Allowing the words to linger for a moment, his demon’s face clouded his memories again. Hackjob had more to hide than he would ever admit to anyone, let alone himself. That was too dangerous. As a young colt, he was well aware of the fact that denial was the only way to stay safe. Dig a grave, toss in all your secrets, and run away. Before long others would forget the wrong doings, the tragedies, the loss. Surely, he could as well.

”I like empty. No one questions my resting habits then.” A coy smile played across his lips. Poking fun at her was, sadly, the most fun he had managed in quite some time. Fun. Such a strange concept. The green pelted stallion knew he was in his prime. Everything should be exciting and new, he should be thrilled to have found a strange new land, with strange new beings. Yet the strings of his brain kept reigning him in, reminding him life was not something he was meant to enjoy.

”Have you ever seen a horned equine?” The question pulls him back into the present, his brows raised. She was rather straightforward, and that he appreciated. His voice came out low, but much warmer than before. Of course, he had never seen such a thing. However, for whatever reason, this new acquaintance was sticking around, and offending this beautifully strange creature was not on his to-do list. ”I’m afraid to say I have not. It’s quite…Lovely?” With the last word stumbling out like a question he chuckles. ”I’m not entirely sure what to make of it.”

The brief laughter that fell from her lips caused his entire body to unintentionally perk up. The sound was committed to his memory- he had no idea the next time he might hear a sound that wasn’t his own racing thoughts. The mare did not offer up her name, but he couldn’t rightfully blame her. Afterall, she knew nothing of him, or he of her. ”My travels are boring, and irrelevant.” He managed, keeping his voice as even as possible. ”You’re correct though, I’m not from here. Yourself?” The question is left as open ended as possible, afterall, he was seeking information. Sometimes you had to take what you could get.

Enthralled. That was the only word that seemed appropriate for the feelings creeping way through his body. He continued to watch her intently, her eyes and horn glowing with a strange intensity that could not be ignored. The tiniest twinge of her brow, or curl of her lip allowed him the shred of confidence he so desperately sought. There was no doubt in his mind he was being pitied. Or perhaps the mare was simply bored. Regardless, it was the longest he had spoken to anyone in what felt like eons of solitude. Equally confusing and relieving, he felt his body lighten. Muscles still on guard began to relax. Attempting to be discrete, he shifted his jaw, unaware of just how long it had been clenched.

Though it seemed faint, she seemed to enjoy his honesty in regards to her horn. A quick chill breezed down his spine, though the cause he could not identify. Springtime was always one of his favorites, the air always so crisp and life sprouting again. Winter brought death and decay, but spring was always there to heal. Healing was a process he had disregarded, at least in terms of himself. His jaw nearly dropped to the floor when she mentioned equines flying. His eyes followed her gaze upwards, lost in time for a moment at the thought of someone like himself with wings. Running was easy, but flying away from your problem? Well that seemed too good to be true. Then again, he’d never stumbled upon anyone with a protrusion sprouting from their head like a sword, so who was he to question any of this. She went on to speak over sea creatures, which made him pause to think. All of his life, Hackjob knew he was different. Many dappled creatures had crossed his path before, but none like him. None the color that had deemed him names such as ‘sickly’ and ‘cursed’. Maybe, just maybe, here he would be normal.

He remained silent, soaking in her words. Then she called her horn a weapon and he scoffed. ”A weapon sure,” His voice rumbled. ”But you must admit, it makes you something different. Sometimes that’s the best thing we can be.” The moment the words left his mouth he internally cursed himself. What the hell was he saying? The stallion was not the type to be inspirational, or whatever you could call the words that flooded through the dam of his lips before he could stop them. With a subtle shrug, he inhaled deeply and was grateful she was speaking again. He sounded foolish.

”Sounds like a pretty horrid storm…” He found himself glancing around again, trying to imagine the sort of weather that could rip this place apart. Part of him wished he had arrived sooner. If only he could have disappeared, the sea tugging him down until it consumed him whole.

A new beginning the words fall from her lips and he finds himself relieved. For once, she seemed to offer up something a bit more personal. Something he so desperately understood. Though he pretended not to notice the swell of her breath catching in her chest, he found himself releasing his own. Hearing his name come from anothers mouth felt foreign, almost surreal. A hesitant step forward caused him to jerk his neck back in surprise, his eyes narrowing with curiosity and, whether he’d admit it or not, excitement . Of course, it was followed by her bold and very accurate presumption that he was running. Being called out struck a nerve, but he found himself feeling emboldened and took a small stride closer. ”It seems we’re both very skilled sprinters then. Neither of us seem to have run far enough.” The words were more for him than anything. There would never be far enough, safety is unattainable when you’re the reason you’re seeking it. ”I also seek a new beginning…” He paused briefly before once again allowing words to spill out that were meant to be under lock and key. ”I need freedom. Or a chance to remember what that words means.”