08-06-2015, 10:00 AM
Saige Ceol
"Her head is a living forest full of song birds..."
You can't run, not from us.
The pain followed in waves as she heard the voices conclude what she had already thought. They were instant, continuous, and butchering her from the inside out. It was them that got her into this mess in the first place, the same thing that had erupted the ground she walked on into thousands of tiny shards. She hadn't been ready for that. Nobody could have been ready for that. Yet she didn't have to be ready to allow it to happen. She couldn't escape them, yet others could. Saige was almost certain that if she could, she would leave her presence as well. She was too much, and the elders had concluded that it would only get worse with time. The hallucinations were beginning to fall to the front more than reality was, the voices were only getting more demanding with time, and the young mare's emotions were being amplified severely. Her belief was as strong as the disease, believing that soon she will be nothing but a walking nightmare.
What do you think, Saige? Is he real?
It took her a moment to understand what the voices were talking about until she glanced around. Her pale eyes sought out the figure of a stallion, bowing not far away from her and instantly her hesitation grew. Was he real? Her own thoughts were conflicted with reality and the hallucinations, making her stand still within the field only to stare at him. He seemed real. In her mind, though, everything seemed real. Her eyes shimmered as she stared at him in what seemed like utter fascination. Even though she was already three years old, she had gained a sense of innocence about the world. Everything through her eyes seemed to appear in the most mystical of ways, a gracefulness about life. Yet now, she wasn't quite sure about the world. The world she had somehow come to love was now filled with hatefulness and bitterness, a side she had never seen. But as she stared at the stallion who approached her with no hesitation in his stride, her outlook began to change. Her eyes stared at him as he raised himself into the air, his blue roan coat almost shimmering in the sun, yet when she expected a loud and boisterous bellow, she heard nothing. His maw opened and closed, yet nothing passed his lips. Nothing she could hear, anyway. Is this a trick by my mind again? The question sat heavily on her ears as she stared at him. Confusion was dancing within the young mare's eyes, yet she wasn't quite sure if she should say anything.
It's always a trick, dearie; a riddle you'll never solve.
A snort came once again from her nostrils as she shook her head, a whinny escaping her lips as she kicked her back legs in agitation. This isn't what she needed now. The madness, discomfort, and agitation. She wanted nothing of it anymore. But instead of listening to the voices overshadowing her, she took hesitant steps toward the silent stallion, not quite sure if he was just a figment of her imagination once again. She intended to touch him with her nose, yet she stayed back for only a second longer. Her hooves shuffled, her head shook, yet with those moments, she stretched her neck forward, intending to brush her nose across the shoulder of the stallion.
"Are you real?" Her words were a mere whisper, brushing through the wind. While they were intended for the stallion, whether or not he might have been real, she wasn't quite sure if even he would have heard her.
You can scream, but they will never hear.
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The Voices. - Thoughts. - Speech.