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It'd always been a chilling sound when the wind moaned through the gnarled, finger-like branches of dead trees. If the cold weather wasn't enough to raise the hair on one's back, well... Too bad there wasn't any wind to actually make the sort of haunting sound he wanted. Then again, wasn't that where Verin came in handy? His jawless maw gaped wide, the forlorn looking spirit was producing all the eerie sounds he could think of--howls, moans, shrieks, and screams. And the cause for all the din? Why, they were hunting, of course. Ornias was no cannibal, despite the way the scent of blood got his entire body twitching for more. Well, he didn't necessarily feed on the bodies of his fellows... only their fear.

And why not?

It was a question he'd often asked himself, his muzzle pulling back in a silent chuckle as he shifted silently through the forest. Jealous strands of smoky hues wound around his pale body, and Verin hovered close to the limp strands of his mane. If it pleased the little, hellish ghost to feast off the misery and torment of others in this land, then that pleased him in turn. Their emotions had always been connected that way, even when he was but a young colt. So Ornias listened carefully for sounds hidden beneath the ruckus that the demon was making, perhaps frightened hoof beats or even a gasp of surprise.

Once they'd revealed themselves, then the game could really begin. How long would they bluster and scream and worry themselves into a tizzy? He liked knowing that both he and Verin were the cause of such emotions, of such mental turmoil. It made him almost feel... stronger, in a sense. Much more powerful. And wasn't that the way it should have been? So long as one was ruled by fear, they might as well have been helpless.

"Softer." The deep, baritone rumble pulsed quietly in his chest, and the spirit obediently lessened the shrill in its tone. Communication was vital if they were to win this round of the game. If anyone was even around to play, of course. He did what he could to keep himself slipped within the shadows of the winter-stripped forest, using all his senses as he prowled forward in search. Surely there had to be someone...

His ears had begun to flicker back and forth as something crashed and cracked off in the distance, wondering with a touch of amusement if that'd been a flock of panicked birds taking flight. He wasn't that lucky. The stallion continued to shift forward as quietly as he could, tail beginning to swish with rising eagerness... and stopped dead as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing in front of him. A mare. But instead of running about in blind terror, she was howling back at them both, even waggling her wings as though mocking his efforts.

Ornias, needless to say, was a little stumped.

Filmy eyes blinked as he continued to stare, and even Verin had tilted his head all the way upside down as though to fully understand just what this Soquili was doing. "...You aren't nearly big enough for it to be very scary." The stallion finally said, taking his time as he slowly picked his way around her. Alight, absent grin came to his face, one ear tilting to listen to the softly moaning spirit that floated up near his face. "You are a cruel thing, Verin. What's to say she isn't trying?" Apparently he didn't seem bothered by the fact that she might have been making fun of him, nostrils flaring slightly to better catch her scent.

He'd seen a few of these types before--the young, the naive. Such sweet creatures. Of course, most of them had been foals. If Verin's fangs had been substantial, he would have loved to sink them straight into those tender throats. So if silly noises didn't scare her... what would? Everyone had a weakness. He just needed to be patient in finding this one's. "You look out of place in this forest." He idly commented, his gaze straying absently to fix upon his bobbing companion. After a while, it almost seemed like he'd even forgotten Puchi was there.

He was silent as she made to awkwardly haul herself upright, still listening to the ghastly, if quiet sounds Verin was making. Jealous, as always. But this strange little bird held no worth to him. "Hush now." He murmured, jerking his head a little with surprise as the mare spoke without warning. Friends? "I haven't the slightest clue what you're going on about." Ornias mused, listening carefully with slight interest. "Ohh... You know about the game?" Well that changed everything. How strange, though; he'd had never assumed someone like her could understand such a thing. In fact, he wasn't quite convinced that she did.

"It's no real matter. The game only ends if you let it." He dismissed her apology with a slow, absent minded smile of his own, pausing as she suddenly seemed to zonk out. "...Oh? I suppose that's true. But I don't have any real reason to hide. I'm the seeker." This time, his grin bared all his teeth, and a chuckle rumbled low in his throat. In turn, a venomous hiss slipped past Verin's fangs, and the spirit wound himself possessively against the stallion's neck. "Ah, he's not fond of you... A pity."

"What do you enjoy most about the game? Do you like it when they suffer, too? Does it make you feel just as strong as I do?" Ornias questioned this strange, winged mare, ignoring the angry snap of teeth near one of his ears. He would not be dissuaded, not when she'd presented such an interesting choice of conversation!

He wasn't paying particularly careful attention to her body language, more distracted by the smoky shade that sought his gaze. Could she really not see him? The stallion mused. Some could, some couldn't. Then again, how often had he ever stopped to converse with any would-be playmates? ...Still, that stare of hers was almost unnerving, particularly the way she could open her eyes so wide. His tail flicked softly as she approached, the sudden warm enough to earn a shrill screech of defiance from Verin. He lunged forward, maw agape as he furiously swooped about her head, shrilling, snapping, all but trembling with rage. How dare she! How dare she come so close and think she could get away with it!

Ornias observed the spectacle with an amused sort of expression, mulling over her words as he did so. "I look for people to play with. ...And I suppose you could say that. I'm no shaman, though. I only have Verin. I can see the ghouls that accompany my siblings and mother as well." Yes, seeing and conversing with the dead was a seemingly ordinary feat in their family.

A nymph? One ear pricked idly, though he chose not to comment. He didn't know what a nymph was--but the word 'sweet' was enough to make him lose interest. "The entire point is to make them suffer." He pointed out simply, blinking. "Just watching them is enough, even if you aren't the cause of it." The stallion gave his head a rueful shake, seeming to realize suddenly they were talking about very different things.

"It isn't bad if it makes someone feel good." He pointed out, his brow furrowing with a mingled sort of confused irritation. What did she know? What a stupid idea. Sensing his unease, Verin halted his useless assault, wisping back to coil himself within his companion's mane. He was attempting to soothe him, but Ornias gave his head an annoyed shake. He didn't want to be placated right now.

The breath that slipped past her muzzle was almost enough to rekindle Ornias' hopes; had she come to her senses? Maybe Verin's presence had finally dawned on her, or, even better, perhaps she'd realize what sort of beast she'd stumbled upon and would try to flee! But the stallion again found himself disappointed by her relentless enthusiasm. That had been a giggle in front of that gasp, after all. Her smile would be met by a deepening scowl, and he was shaking his head even before she could finish her questions. He lived for himself, by the rules and boundaries both he and Verin had created for themselves. He'd had no one but the spirit to listen to, and the empathetic bond they shared warped his mind from the day he had been born.

"No. The point of a game is to have fun." He corrected sternly, the low rumble of his voice almost ridiculously childish as he snorted. "There is no 'everyone'. Nobody likes to lose a game either, do they? It's the same thing. They're just losing." It made sense to him anyway. How could he explain to her the sensation he felt, the way it ebbed the ache in his mind and left Verin content to merely curl himself about in the stallion's mane and muse to himself? A long-suffering sigh of exasperation slipped from him before he furrowed his brows and started again.

"It's the only game Verin will play. And if he isn't happy, I can't be happy either." Then the headaches started, sometimes bad enough that he couldn't see straight. "But then we both enjoy the game, and can be happy. What does it matter what they think?" He tossed his horned head ruefully, staring at her out of one milky eye. "Why do you play games? What's your purpose?" She kept talking about games, but from what he'd gathered, they were nothing like the ones he played.

His tail lashed once, irritated, but then his body stilled. The stallion had zoned out again, it seemed, ears swiveled back to listen to the hissing murmurs of the ghost. She'd likely lie to him, trick him, make him lose the game so she could triumph. It was almost enough to crack a grin from the stallion, stringy hair spilling in front of his eyes as he lowered his head and chuckled. She was smarter than she'd let on!

Ahh, but Puchi could corrupt his host of sorts! She was already filling his head with silly, babbling ideas, had already distracted him from the game. Even now, her continued presence had triggered Ornias' infamous stubborn streak, and the male was determined to peel away these seemingly elusive layers and get to the bottom of her seemingly flippant attitude. Perhaps that was why he was so surprised when she was so open to admit that she always lost her games. Jerking his head back with surprise, nostrils flaring and milky eyes narrowed, the stallion slowly twisted his gaze to eye her with open suspicion. See, see? She HAD to be lying, Verin was hissing low in his missing throat. Ornias, however, wasn't so sure.

"No wonder you don't like the game, if you've never won." He almost sounded disgusted, shaking himself over as though his muscles could shrug off the very thought of going through so much failure. There was no pride in being complimented by someone who could so gracefully accept her losses, and the stallion let his tail flick out with a sharp crack. "I've met no friends with my game. That's not the point." But, he reasoned, perhaps he hadn't lost enough to do so.

Something soft brushed against his cheek, made him startle with a rough, irritated sound. A wing? Well, he was certainly focusing on her again, lips curled a little as though confused with what sort of expression he should portray. Her words were able to sink in easily, ears flicking between the mare and the frantically snarling spirit. They did have everything, yes--but wasn't she testament to the truth of her words? He'd never expected to find someone who could befuddle him, confound him in such an infuriating way. Instead of growing frustrated or amused enough to simply walk away, he wanted to understand the way she worked and why.

"What other games? I only know this one." He challenged without hesitation, testing her, wanting to see if she'd measure up to his expectations. She'd have to back up her words if she expected him to go along with any of this. He was a stallion who needed proof, after all. And surely she wasn't going to disappoint him by backing out of this now!

His frown was growing larger and larger the more she spoke, and the stallion shifted his weight about impatiently as though he couldn't wait to be rid of this strange mare. Lost every game she'd ever played? Then maybe she just didn't know how! He was unable to comprehend it, and gave his head an irritated shake before he straightened. "So you play the game... so others can enjoy it?" Would come the skeptical question, and Ornias wasn't sure if he pitied the mare or not. She certainly hadn't let him enjoy his game! ...But that was all right, he could cope. Once he sorted out this puzzling irritation, he'd move on and all would be well again.

"So your game," He grunted when she seemed to be finished explaining herself, "Is to leech the happiness of others? Hmm." Well, that was something he could understand, sort of. Their pain and fear, that fueled him--it wasn't too far-fetched to think she could do the opposite. Grew happy off their happiness? It sounded like a lot of work, to be honest, and he thought it sounded rather dull in the long run.

Then she spoke of her games.

Ears pricked slowly, and his eyes would narrow some at her grin before he picked over the options he needed to weigh. "Heh. So bring others. I'll play your game." See if she could leech him, would she? It was a challenge, one that instinctively made him need to prove himself as the better of their odd pair. He'd beat her at whatever she threw at him!

Meanwhile, Verin seethed and wondered what the bloody point to all this was. Crazy kids!