[PRP] Making A Great Escape Elsewhere (Ezriel x Malis)

[Kijani]

Sleep had not come easy the night before and the brilliantly white colt had found his mind to be tormented with the harsh whispers, the snide comments and rumors that so often filled his ears when others believed he couldn't hear them or was unaware of their presence. But he knew all too well for such a young one and that desire, that need to lash out against those who spoke ill against him and his family- to brawl and fight if necessary since the young colt was equipted well for combat and to deal a good lashing and thrashing to those who threatened him or needed to be silenced either temporary or permenantly.

Yet the thought to actually vanquish someone rarely crossed his mind; in all honesty Ezriel wasn't quite fond of the idea at the moment but, slowly, the darkness within his soul was slowly consuming him and his blood ran thick with that of that horrid, monster-mutant father of his of whom he didn't know personally and because of that he still lived.

If Reaper was to discover that his mother was alive along with three offspring, certain death would be the outcome although Glamrock and Korrine had hid them well and Ezriel didn't want to be found nor face his father.

That was something he wanted to avoid and never experience.

He had wandered away from Glamrock, his mother and siblings and stumbled off towards the forest witnhout looking back. There was something that stirred within Ezriel- something that made him want to retreat into the darkness and a part of him that sought blood, to kill and fight although the other half simply wanted to return back to safety and alongside his godmother, mother and siblings. Yet he grumbled slightly as that chilling, smooth voice echoed within his mind.

Follow it, feed it. Become what you are- you are his son. Make them pay for what they have said against you.

The colt gritted his teeth together and flicked his ears back as he romped towards the small stream and furrowed his brows with fury as his orbs, much like voids of nothingness and a lack of life, stared into his reflection.

"No." He flatly muttered as he thrashed his spiked tail behind him.

You cannot escape it.

"You don't control me," he hissed with an acidic tone, low and hushed.

The voice chuckled with a mild amusement. You are exactly like him and you underestimate what you will become. His blood flows through your veins.

Ezriel flared his nostrils as the battle between darkenss and light within became more intense. He may look like his father but Ezriel didn't want to be like him- be known because of him and his reputation. More than anything Ezriel wanted to be himself and not someone else but that was easier said then done. But he had heard enough.

Breaching upwards on his hind legs as his spiked tail thrashed behind him, the white colt slammed his front hooves within the wakes of the stream and yelled.

"I AM NOT LIKE HIM!"

He intook a deep breath and clawed within the stream with his cloven hooves and flared his nostrils once more. Shaking his head as his crimson mane whisped about, Ezriel gave a foul and distasteful frown as he gritted his teeth.

"I may be his flesh and blood but I will not be like him," he muttered to himself as the voice silenced- glancing around and slumping onto his haunches.

"I cannot be compared to him."  

[Malis Vitterfolk]

"The spirits be hunting you, pale one." A blue shape came slowly out of a thick grove of trees. "Ah be feelin' their prescence surroundin' ya but ya be strong... no be tormented by t' spirits here." She started mumbling something under her breath and a sweet cold breath of fresh hair seemed to sweep it's way into the clearing. The sharp fingers of the mountain air seemed to open the senses and clear the mind but it was small and would not last unless he used it for that moment to help push the spirits the rest of the way out. The mare stayed in the shadows but it was possible to pick out the bright red dreads and a few golden bangles clinked when she moved her head. She eyed him as she glanced around before speaking once more. "You be commin' alone? T' see me or just t' get away?"  

[Kijani]

The rapture that plauged his mind became numb once again as the voice faded, ears perking upwards and flicking slightly back as he looked towards the shadowed figure whose voice had broke through the still silence all around him. Ezriel flread his nostrils yet as she spoke and mumbled a strange sensation seemed to wash over him, overcoming him as fragments of the pain seemed to be cleansed and washed away. But in all truth, that torment and 'evil spirit' was apart of him- a part that was foever engraved within him, a battle between light and dark that would never cease until either part would become extinguished and obliterated within him.

"Spirits," the pale colt repeated as he flicked his spiked tail to the side and gave a small, distateful frown. "I don't know what the hell it is or what they want from me. The only thing I know is that I'm not normal and if this one stallion finds me-" he clenched his maw as a heavy sigh escaped from his nostrils.

His mother, Korrine, nor his siblings ever mentioned or spoke about their father and the ordeal. Thankfully they had found refuge with the unicorn Glamrock and were protected yet, never the less, a sickening feeling churned within his stomach- one that could only assure that, whether they liked it or not, they would face their father and Ezriel, his siblings and mother would have stand against him and protect one anothers lives from such a brutish and twisted stallion. It troubled him and the voice within his head didn't help at all as it constantly urged him to let the darkness and his true self consume him but the thought of becoming like his father sickened him.

Ezriel did not want to become like him or have anything to do with him.

Reguarldess of flesh and blood, Ezriel didn't hold him with any respect or held any emotion for him- except for hate.

A hate that could forge him into something that was so powerful, so steadfast and unafraid- a soquili whose drive was to fight and protect those who he cared so deeply about. Yet that part of him had yet to be realized or fully awakened.

Shifting slightly as his eyes much like voids of nothingness peered towards her shadow figure. From what light seemed to drap from the boughs of the trees and the thick shadows, the pale colt could make out thick masses of mane and a few shimmers of gold. He hadn't met many soquilis and still wasn't quite familiar with where exactly he was yet he found himself intrigued and curious as to who who she was.

He gave a nod of his head and took several steps forward, lowering his head and giving another small nod as well as displaying the horns and spikes that adorned his head.

"I came alone," he spoke with a slightly gruff, somewhat hesitant voice that sought to remain strong. "I was...just trying to get away and clear my head. But no one can help me- no one understand what hell I go through and I'm...just so confused."

What was one suppose to do or how was one supopose to live when the enternal conflict was growing and becoming more tumultuious day by day? Those rumors, the ill words people spoke against his mother and siblings- they constantly bombarded his ears and left him enraged and sick of living in silence and letting others freely speak against them. He bore his fathers strength and his assertiveness (although he didn't show it) yet he also was blesssed with his mothers compassion and love.

But that voice- it challenged everthing he kne he was and attempted to persuade and chox him to be as savage and bloodthistry as his father.

Looking towards the mare in disguise, Ezrile flicked his ears slightly.

"Can....you help me?"  

[Malis Vitterfolk]

"I cann' lead ya down t' path o' t' spirits but ah be one who can show ya t' entrance. The spirits are strong around ya, they call for vengence?" The mare peered slightly to the side of him with her golden eyes, returning his dark one with a bright stare that seemed to pierce into his soul. She seemed to search him for answers and yet not intrusivly but more with an aura of curiosity and respect. "Ya be born under an unlucky star but that be not your fault and thus ya spirit remain clean. If ya keep the hounds at bay ya always be fighting them but sometimes it be better to cajole them in. T' trick them int' working for ya." Her eyes darkened at that moment and she released his gaze turning to the sky above as if choosing her words carefully. "But ya gotta be rememberin' that ya must be stronger than they before temptin' them for otherwise they be overtakin' ya." She shook her head slowly before muttering something else which seemed to lighten up the area slightly, the differance between a night with no moon to a full luna sphere. Takeing a few more steps forwards she came mostly into view. The stocky mare already stood as tall as he but seemed even more larger being rotund, her movements graceful but laboured, her pregnancy was showing. Malis' tusk showed in the pale light missmatched with its broken mate while her bangles clinked around her face. This was no ordinary mare and yet her exotic looks seemed to match her speech patterns and helt add to her mysterious aura. "So ya be lookin' for t' help? What help ya be lookin' for specifically, a vague path be better than no path but ya be learnin' better from a clear direction to be headin'"  

[Kijani]

Vengence.

It was moreso a weapon which the young colt sought never to use unlike his father; a stallion whose lust for blood and heart of darkness seemed to consume and feed off of. Although he was said to look like Reaper the most compared to Meera and Dante, Ezriel knew that he never wanted to face the fiend on any given day. Oh how he wanted nothing to do with him or be like him! Yet there was a part of him- that voice, that whispered to him and spoke of weilding vengence and redeeming his family and his name.

But Ezriel wanted no part in it.

He wanted to be himself, he wanted to be normal yet those whispers and scorning remarks would never leave him at peace. Spirits or torment- Ezriel wanted the conflicted parts of him to entwine and peace to come. Yet such peace would take time to ever acquire or to experience- time which would not come until he had fought such malicious demons and his fears.

The pale colt snorted slightly as he flicked his spiked devil tail behind him. "Vengence- I don't want it. But something else, something within me wants it." His ears flicked slightly as his eerie, orbs of nothingness stared into the mares eyes.

"I guess I'll be battling these demons or spirits for a long time then, right? I mean- is there an end to all of this or do I have to go through hell and back to be 'normal'?"

It still had yet to make sense but, day by day, Ezriel was piecing the puzzle slowly together. He stood there, watching as the mare revealed herself. Tusks that peeked from out of her lower maw, an assortment of strange bangles, a mane that was thick and dreaded- even by her accent and jargon he knew that this was quite a diverse and unique soquili. He liked that; Unlike many who thought themselves prestine and 'better than the rest', Ezriel had come to hold a deeper respect for many that were rather strange and held their own identity after meeting with Tal. He had gained a better respect for himself and others that were out of the norm- being scary or strange was better than being normal.

For a moment, Ezriel knitted his brows and pursed his lips.

"I," he spoke low with a small flare of his nostrils, "I- I want help. I want to know what I can do...anything...just tell me what I need to know or what path to follow. It feels like there are two parts of me; a part of me like my mother and another just like....my father."

Reaper.

Their Father who was rarely spoken of and never mentioned- that horrid and haunting stallion who nearly killed their mother and left her dead but failed to realize that she was very much alive and with children. He didn't want to be like him or become something like him- but he was so conflicted, so confused!

"I don't want to hurt anyone...I don't want to be like him..." he admitted quietly as he glanced around.

"But there's something inside of me that wants me to- a voice. It's always there....and it can never be silenced."  

[Malis Vitterfolk]

"Three paths be what ya lookin' for. Three, each wit' their own hazards and difficulties. Ya might already know what there be lyin' before ya on each o' those paths but it'll be hard which ever rout ya be takein'." The blue mare turned her head slightly to show the broken tusk and eyed him slightly. "Ya might loose somethin' precious to ya, a part o' ya own beain' but it be worth it in t' end." Looking up to the sky, the troll's voice almost seemed to echo within it'self, as if she breathed the wisdom of the spirits. "Ya mother has a great strength within her, this be givin' you t' power t' take on t' spirits that be hauntin' you. She embodies one o' t' paths, one o' gentleness and protection. T' path not be one o' weakness, t' have t' determination t' face what ever be against ya be one o' t' hardest paths. Follow that path an ya may be fightin' t' darker ones until ya lay under t' earth." Malis lowered her voice and stared at the pale stallion with a sharp glare. "T' other path be of destruction, embodied by t' father ya be despisin'. This be t' easiest path t' travel down but will be commin' wit' t' hardest price t' bare. Ah be promicin' ya, if ya be followin' down t' path o' hate, ya will loose ya family. Even by hatin' ya father, by loathin' an' cursin' his name, ya be followin' down his path." She paused and let her words sink in. The third choice would be the hardest one to follow, but the rewards for walking down such a fine line were only reserved for those with the strongest of wills.  

[Kijani]

Ezriel silenced and listened, ears perked upwards as his spaded, spiked devil tail swayed behind him and his breaths were quite.

There were three paths which the mare spoke of; three individual and unique paths that would all bear their trials of hardships, torment and strength which would require a sacrifice of something yet, in the end, it would lead to rewards and an end to the torment that wracked his soul- or so he hoped.

As she mentioned his mothers own strength and will, her gentleness and sense of protection that emodied itself within his own soul, the pale colt eyes widened slightly. How the mare knew of this was beyond him and only the conclusion could be drawn of the mare being able to speak and converse with the spirits and draw in their own logic seemed right since, from what he knew, there were some individuals that were gifted and set apart from others.

Studying the given description of the first path, Ezriel silently pondered.

He wasn't weak and he knew he could find the determination within the face whatever would come his way and, from what the blue mare spoke of, it would be the hardest to tread upon. But the part that spoke of the possibility of having to brawl and fight against those of a darker nature until he laid to rest within the earth did not appeal all too well. Ezriel wanted to fight several times and be done with it- to no longer be bothered and be able to stand on his own and define himself as one who could not be taken down or obliterated. There was a part of him like his father which convinced himself that he would stop at nothing yet violence wasn't the reason nor revenge.

Ezriel would stop at nothing to protect those he loved and his family.

Hearing of the third path only caused the ghost-like colt to surpress a shudder and grit his teeth slightly. Yet the mare spoke true: if Ezriel was to continue hating and cursing his father for what he had done to his mother then he was following his fathers own footsteps which would certainly lead eventually to bloodlust, revenge and a savage nature which, sooner or later, would lead to his downfall and the loss of his own family. No! No! He didn't want that! He couldn't let himself lose his family. The colt gave a nod and exhaled a breath through his nostrils.

But there was one more path.

As her words continued to rummage through his mind and awaken his true thoughts, Ezriel tilted his head slightly.

"And what about the third path?" He asked low as he stared into her golden eyes. "Is that the toughest one?"  

[Malis Vitterfolk]

The blue made nodded solemnly her dreads clinking forwards to cover her face for the moment. Ignoring them she pawed a gilded hoof on the ground to draw a line. There she drew two symbols on either side, one looked like the wind, or water, flowing down the line that she had drawn the longer symbol ending at a swirl that seemed to continue down forever within it'self. The other symbol was drawn across the line almost, it was jagged and harsh. Even in it's simple state it was easy to see that it was a symbol for violence, the essance of it looking like a pointed weapon. Then she spoke, watching his face through her long thick dreads. "Those be ya three paths, one o' kindness and one o' war. T' center line be t' balance o' both. It be not t' tall oak, hard with rocky strength that be survivein' t' harshest gales, it be t' lithe willow, which bends an' sways with t' wind that would otherwise be tarin' it apart."

Malis took a few more steps forward and gestured towards a willow that was near by. "The Willow be a softer wood, but it be havin' thick, strong roots. In t' roots, creatures be livin' and growin'. In t' thin branches, life, from t' sun, travels down to t' rest of t' tree. When the winds of vengance be blowin' all furious and violent, t' willow will bend with t' anger, will accept it's strength an' yet not be passin' it's destruction down towards t' roots. This be how ya can walk t' fine line between, and how ya will learn to not be plagued by t' spirits within."  

[Kijani]

With orbs of nothingness, Ezriel watched carefully as the blue mare began to glide her hoof upon the ground as she drew a line- watching her as she began to draw two symbols on either side. It was strange but although he did furrow his crimson brows slightly, the young colt continued to watch.

For a few moments he stared at the symbols- one trail seemed to flow with a design that could be compared to the wind or a flowing stream of water while the other one seemed tumultious and jagged with another adorning symbol that looked like a fearsome horn or spike. And as she spoke, he listened. There were three paths- three separate paths: kindness, balance and war. The middle line, balance seemed to stick out to him and, silently, something within him churned and stirred within him. Inside he was conflicted- he knew it and couldn't deny it as the inner battle between light and dark raged on unceasingly.

Balance.

Ezriel needed to find balance amongst both sides and learn to weild them.

Before he could open his maw, the pale colt watched as the mare gestured towards the lone willow. He nodded his head- noting the symbollism and significance of a willow as it was commonly know that the willow wasn't quite the strongest of trees but, somehow, it seemed to surpass any destruction or devastation and seemed to bend and not break against the powers of the elements and its surroundings.

He glanced from the willow back to her and sighed through his nostrils, a hoof pawing at the ground.

"Balance....that's what I need to find. But- how can I find it? What do I do? Sometimes the urges and their whispers are so strong that I feel...so powerless and I obey. I don't want to be like my father- I want to be me! But it gets harder and harder to repress them." His ears flicked slightly downwards as he bit his lower lip, tail swaying low as his emotions stirred within him.

But he clenched his jaws and closed his eyes momentarily, flaring his nostrils as the internal struggle seemed to gripe at his heart and gnash upon his own innards.

Ezriel winced but exhaled with a strong snort, relaxing slightly and trying to regain himself.

"How do I begin?"  

[Malis Vitterfolk]

The troll took a deep breath and shifted her weight, her foals were kicking and she maneuvered herself to take the preasure off her side for a moment. "T' next time ya be feelin' t' anger rise within' ya need t' ride it. Use t' power but channel it t' good not evil. Run hard, climb t' high places, find some way t' be usin' t' energy wit'out lettin' ya be destructive." She stared at the pale stallion and captured he gaze with her own. "It be very hard t' first time ya let yourself be immersed in t' anger. Remember, rocks be inanimate, they be not with feelin'. Attack if ya must t' first time but direct ya attacks with construction in mind. Concentrate on healin' t' wound within ya soul that be creatin' t' rift and lettin' t' evil spirits in." She smiled then, her tusk glinting in the half light. "It might be takin' years befor ya find true peace but by usin' t' energy it not be buildin' up. As long as t' evil spirits not be growin' within' then ya won't be holding it in until ya explode without control. Let t' evil out with great control and ya will be master over t' spirits and n'ere be plagued by them again."  

[Kijani]

Ezriel shifted his weight slightly from each hoof and knited his brows. This power- the darkness within him which conflicted with the light was powerful yet she was advising him to channel it to something else? The small colt pursed his lips slightly, white ears flicking as his empty orbs simply looked towards the blue mare while he gave a nod of his head.

"Channel it- channel it for good," the young foal repeated to himself. It seemed strange and something that would in turn help him but there were temptations, urges and desires that tried to get the upperhand in his emotions and his lust for the darkness, for power and to feed the rage within. Yes- he knew of it well and it was something, a part of him, that the young colt wished not to unlock or let loose.

Her words seemed to fill his mind with ideas and ways to avoid such a haphazard mistake of letting such powerful urges and darkness get the better of him. Running, climbing, anything to exhert and use up the energy without inflicting harm or pain to another.

Even the idea of causing harm to another bewildered him. No, Ezriel couldn't do such a thing! He wouldn't let himself fall so deep and so low! He couldn't, No- he wouldn't let himself become the stallion his father was. But saying such a thing was easy- it was the effort and the resistance to such a tangible possibility which made him cringe and his stomach churn. For too long the words of others had been heard- those remarks of his looks, his family, and everything. He was so sick of them! A part of him wanted to silence them, prove them wrong and let the inner rage and power become unleashed but even the young colt was aware that such a response would leave to severe consequences and penalties. It wasn't worth it but intimidation and striking fear into their hearts seemed reasonable as to silence them from ever speaking ill about his family ever again. Yet the light inside rebuked and made him rethink such a decision most of the time.

If only Ezriel knew that such a conflict would only become more dire and offensive within himself.

The worst was yet to come.

Again he nodded his head, pursing his lips slightly as he listened. Concentrate- focus. He could do this but the length of time that it would take only caused him to give a grim expression.

"Years? I don't want it to take years. I...want to get rid of it faster, for good. There has to be another way, right? This can't be the only way," he grimmaced, a distateful scowl curling upon the edge of his maw as he shook his head as a lone tear escaped from his voidless eye and trailed down from his face.

"I can't live like this...." he muttered to himself, again shaking his head and closing his eyes as a sigh escaped from out of his nostrils.

Years.

There had to be some other way, right? Something else? Was there anyone or anything that could cleanse him from the darkness that abided within him? Ezriel clenched his teeth and tensed, holding back his emotions and pressing them farther back as it was a side of him he never let anyone see and a part of him that he kept locked away.

"Can't I do anything else? Any cures? Anyone else with a f@#!ing clue or ability to just make this stop?"

Temper, Temper!

He cringed instantly, closing his eyes again and even tighter as he winced. Pain, pain caused by the unseen began to shoot through his mind. The voice within, that chilling and haunting voice, returned.

I'm afraid she can't help you. No one can, it replied with a sweetly acidic tone. You have yet to learn of what you will become and what you will destroy or will it destroy you before you can destroy it?

"Stop it," Ezriel snarled subconciously to the unheard voice that plauged his mind.

Kill, main, rip, shred, maul, disembowl- you will become like him and you will follow in his steps. Let me teach you, let me help you.

"I will not become the stallion my father is!" He suddenly yelled outloud, snapping his jaws together as his ears fell back and he lowered his head as his eyes felt unworthy to look upon the mare in front of him or anything. He stood there, holding back the tears and the frustration.

He was strong.

Ezriel wouldn't let himself cry.

He was better than that.  

[Malis Vitterfolk]

"Quick! Kick out behind you! Now! Kick!" Malis suddenly jumped forward staring behind the white stallion with a ferocious look. "Quick! Run! This Way!" She shot out instructions like lightning, not even waiting for his responses. The troll stomped her hoof to emphisize the urgency and shattered a mold ridden log that had been laying underfoot. The loud crack echoed through the forest and caused a large flock of birds to take flight. As if that was the signal, Malis took off, darting between the closely knit trees and thundering through the undergrowth. Even large with child she was still nimble on her feet, years of hunting and physical contests a boon in her gravid state. She glanced back to see if he was following before slowing down slightly, making sure she didn't cause any undue stress to her children. Her stamina and size helpedkeep up the pace but the troll was sure his younger and lighter bosy would have no trouble following her, even if he might be worn out when finished.

The blue mare felt the cadence of hooves beat in time with her heart and she slowed her breathing in time, almost flowing into a trance-like state where her mind flew faster than her feet ever could. In this state of fight or flight, the flight had already been chosen, leaving the fight behind. This was the first step she hoped to teach him; to use the energy that wanted to fight into strength that pounded the ground as they raced through the trees. To use the beating of hooves as a focus to re-align the mind and re-gain control. For the more control he gained over the dark spirits of anger, the less he would need to run just to achieve balance. With determination Malis was sure he would gain control quicker than he thought, especially as he had something clear to him to be protected by his body and soul.  

[Kijani]

At the mares sudden exclaimation and didn't hesitate. The small colt thrusted all of his weight to his front hooves and kicked out behind him, powerfully as his cloven hooves felt nothing yet he didn't seem to question such a command given by her. But before he could even speak, he was told to run quickly and, again, without hesitation or a need to argue Ezriel began following her. He darted and weaved between the thick, gnarly trees and through the rugged undergrowth as his void-less orbs narrowed and locked upon the peculiar blue mare.

Already with the exhertion of such a great amount of energy, Ezriel bit his lower lip and tried to ignore the pain while his energy felt depleted. But he was stronger than that and giving up was not an option. The pale-white colt continued as he tried to breathe steady and deep.

His mind seemed to reel as questions seemed to litter his train of thought and that all too familiar sickly and dark sensation of the demon within seemed to douse over him but the effect simply dissapated and it was gone. If only the small colt had realized that the anger and hatred of riled emotions had not been fed and the darkness within left with nothing to feed off of that the beast was made useless and slithered away in defeat back within the deepest part of his mind. For at this moment, darkness was slowly begining to taste the foul and sour taste of defeat.

Catching up to the mare, Ezriel continued with steady, deep breaths as he did manage to pant slightly once or twice. "What- what happened?" Was something after them? Did they really run from something? Ezriel didn't know but only knew one thing from that 'experience'.

"That used up all of my energy...I'm so tired..."  

[Malis Vitterfolk]

Suddenly Malis halted, standing still in the now quiet forest. At the stallions exclamation sh eyed him. "Shhh... can ya be hearin' it?" The only sound was the beating of their hearts and the wind whispering secret knowledge through the trees. The troll kept her eyes on him, sensing the small change in his temperament. She could feel the difference in the atmosphere and smiled to herself, sure he could feel it too. "Fight or flight, that be the choice you make. If ya be feelin' t' need to fight you have to choose. Flight does not mean you are weak. Flight does not mean you are a coward. Flight gives you the opportunity to choose your battles. To save that energy for when it is truly needed to protect the ones you love. There will be moments when you may need to call upon the forces within your being but by gaining control over the darker energies." It was then the pale stallion might realize that Malis was speaking a little more 'normal', her usual gruff accent changing to a low melodic chant. The troll smiled knowingly, her bright red eyes flashing in the dim light of the grove before she spoke once more in her regular tones. "Ya be understandin' how t' use ya own strengths for t' protection o' t' ones ya be lovin'?"  

[Kijani]

Crimson brows knitted as the mare spoke, the young colt falling silent as his ears flicked forward and he too began to listen. He could hear his heart beating, pattering agains his chest, while the winds seemed to whisper its knowledge and still, small advice as rustled the leaves of the trees and whistled through boughs and thickets. The change in the atmosphere made him more aware as he listened closely- trying to piece together whatever was being spoken of by such an unseen entity or invalid that he could have sworn was speaking right into his ear.

Again his attention focused upon the blue mare as his eyes widened slightly, his tail carefully wrapping around him as his head tilted slightly. It was making sense- Ezriel was slowly begining to piece together the mystery of what darkness and demons laid havock within him.

The knowledge that every battle didn't have to be fought still had yet to settle fully within his mind but, soon, he would learn of what it truly meant. But yet perhaps the darknss within him wasn't all bad? Like the mare had said, he needed to harness the energy and use it for his own rather than letting himself succumb to a pawn of the consuming darkness. It was settling well with him and the small colt nodded his head, focused upon her as her tone held a more 'normal' and soothing tone that seemed to clear through his ears and mold itself within his memory.

"Yeah," he softly spoke, reserved and rather calm as he narrowed his void-less, black orbs towards her bright red eyes. "I..I think I know what to do and how to control this. I just- I just have to control it," Ezriel gave a nod of his head as his small, whispy crimson mane shook along with his head.

His brows knitted slightly as he pawed at the ground with a small cloven hoof, looking upwards.

"Who are you?"