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Dawn was breaking against the eastern slopes of the mountains. What had previously been shrouded in total darkness was slowly, steadily being exposed to the bright rays of the early summer sun. Here there were no trees, only rocks and barren outcroppings. The darkness of night was shrinking into mere shadows, and here and there could be heard the skitterings and scratchings of noctural creatures withdrawing for their daylight slumbers. Bird songs began to be heard in the morning air, and daylight creatures such as rabbits began to make their appearances. All in all, it was a typical morning in the mountains.

Typical in every way, including the complete and utter stillness in one particular boulder valley. Here, there were no rabbits, no birds; no sounds or signs of life of any kind. An ominous stillness hung in the air that could be felt as soon as one entered the area...if one did.

The morning stillness was suddenly broken by a sharply drawn-out hiss from amidst the silent stones. It was a pronounced noise, expressing rage and annoyance and perhaps a few other emotions for good measure. The volume and duration of the hiss implied large lung capacity, but no creature of any kind could be seen. However, on the heels of the hisses came more sharp noises, as of a large hoofed creature moving quickly over a hard surface. It was an incongruous noise in that boulder-filled area, as the terrain alone made it unsuitable for hooved creatures.

And still nothing could be seen.

Bile was upset, and he didn't care who knew. Or rather, he didn't know anyone knew, because caring suggested that he was aware of such things. But to care, or to be aware that he cared, was a sensation far beyond Bile's normal capabilities. Never in his life could Bile be accused of 'caring'. This wasn't to imply he didn't have emotions or feel things; no, he could be happy and sad, enraged and ebullient. But for Bile, emotions were displayed almost reflexively. There was no masking what he felt, and there was no meditating on what those emotions meant. Mentally, he was a creature of utmost simplicity, and nothing outside of the moment existed.

This morning, the moment was taken over by annoyance.

Ever since the earliest of his recollections, Bile had hated the sun. Shadows and darkness had been his friends when nothing else was, soothing his injured body an mind with the coolness and closeness of darkness. As a terrified, badly injured foal, he had found comfort in the darkness. There, he felt safe. When the sun came up, his loving and protecting darkness was driven back, and rather than face the open, terrifying world exposed by the daylight, Bile too fell back into shadows.

This meant that daytime was a period of great challenge for Bile. The terrible tumble he had taken down the slopes of the mountain while still in his basket had had many lasting side effects; his hunched back, oddly bent legs, misshapen wings, and twisted lower jaw were testament to that. But in spite of the many broken bones whose healing had left him misshapen, Bile was a large beast. Hunched or not, he would tower over a normal Soquili. But in his world, size was not an advantage. As the daylight spread, Bile had to scramble to stay in the shadows, hugging the undersides of the massive boulders than dominated this landscape and slinking through the various caverns. It was a challenge, but Bile had never once considered the alternative. To be exposed to daylight made Bile react with the utmost of intensity; he could not be more terrified or in greater mental pain if he were to be lit on fire.

Difficult as it was to stick within the shadows as during the daytime, Bile made it work. Depending on his mood that day, he might even make a game out of it, seeing how quickly he could move from one shadow too another. In spite of his deformities, Bile could move with great speed when he wished; his crabbed posture only made him resemble nothing so much as a giant beetle.

But today was not a day for games. Today, any sense of fun or adventure was swallowed up by his great anger, the same anger that had provoked his loud hiss. He was angry at the world in general, at the day which had dawned before he was ready, and most of all, at the horrible creatures of the world which were eluding him. In other words....

He was hungry.

'Infantile' would be an accurate description of Bile's mental state, and of his behaviors. It didn't occur to him that there might be someone else around, definitely not that there might be someone who could be interpreted as a danger. To be sure, Bile's definition of 'danger' would be different from most others', even if he could understand the word. After all, what was a 'danger'? Something that caused pain? Well, he did that to himself all the time. Something that drew blood? Ditto. Something that could kill? One might argue that with Bile, it was only a matter of time...

The loud, angry hiss had been followed by a few short, garbled grunting noises as Bile looked around himself for something to eat, to no avail. This had provoked some petulant snarling, another (much quieter) hiss, and some growls before Bile suddenly and abruptly went silent.

Something was there. Something large, something with large, powerful veins pumping with blood! Something that could be played with, perhaps, or eaten!

Noises of anger gave way to a soft, almost childish giggle of pleasure, a sound bizarrely at odds with Bile's appearance, surroundings, and previously behavior. But he only indulged himself in vocalizations for that one last moment. Past experience had taught him that the most important thing when on the hunt was stealth, including silence. Then, almost as if by magic, the dark stallion melted further into the shadows of the crags, moved in his unique scuttling fashion amidst the rocks towards the unknown creature. How exciting!

"HSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS"

Bile was beyond hungry now, he was outraged. He had been tantalized and tempted by the prospect of fresh game, had managed to get himself close enough to be able to see it, only to be thwarted in the most hideous of manners. He could see the creature moving around in his beloved boulder field, could see the lovely, lovely veins in its neck and legs...and could see the light radiating from its head.

Light.

His ultimate enemy, the destroyer of his peace and invader of his sacred space, now rearing its ugly head on the back of his rightful prey! It was unfair, grossly unfair, and he couldn't do anything but react to that. A sensible creature might have kept quiet, and withdrawn further to avoid detection. But Bile? Rational thought had never prevented him from a good howl.

Noises, noises, always so many noises. No matter what sort of creature it was, they all made their own strange and unappealing noises. Bile had only ever been interested in the sounds of other creatures in that they drew his attention to creatures he might otherwise have missed. Smell was his favorite scent, but there was only so far that scent could carry.

But none of the noises made sense to Bile. Having grown up on his own, in his own world, there was no language he spoke other than his own and no words he understood other than the semi-coherant thoughts in his own mind. Blood. Food. Light. Rain. More than actual words, they were expressions of emotion or desire, the basest of a Soquili's animal need and urges.

He heard the words of the prey animal, but they were so much bird song in his ears. No meaning, no sense; no light of understanding sparked in his eyes as the other Soquili spoke, and there were no answering words on his lips. His face remained twisted in a scowl, and from that scowl issued forth a much deeper, darker snarl as he surveyed the creature in the light. Surely there was a way to separate the beast from the light? There had to be some way...

With greater speed than one might expect from such a hunched and twisted creature, Bile shot around behind the closest boulder into a new patch of shadow and peered around it at the stallion with a baleful stare. He was NOT amused with this situation, but he would overcome!

Had he known the worries of the other stallion's mind, or known the words to express himself in a way which would be understood, Bile could have easily set his mind at rest in one respect. Bile was alone; he had always been alone, and he would always be alone. There had been enough bloodshed in this area that it almost permeated the air; few creatures and birds ventured into these parts, and the Soquili that lived within earshot of his little valley referred to him as 'the Boogeyman', known only by the sounds of his hysterically delighted laughter after a kill. A few bold souls might dare each other to enter the rocky valley, but nothing ever came of those dares.

No, Bile was alone.

Alone, except for this fascinating and terrifying creature, with his tantalizing warmth, the blood pulsing so close that Bile could almost taste it. With his blazing light, the one thing that truly struck fear into Bile's blackened husk of a heart. It was maddening, to be so close to such a large creature; past experience had taught Bile that the larger the creature, the more blood in its body. He'd never seen anything this large, and to have it so close and yet so out of his reach was enough to drive him into a fury.

It kept making those noises, too; those odd noises that came out of its weirdly contorted mouth. He didn't know what they meant; they lacked the beauty of birdsong and didn't seem to serve any discernible purpose. They certainly didn't scare him, if that was their intent, but they sure as hell annoyed him!

Snarling, he lashed out of his safe darkness at the stallion, his slavering mouth illuminated in the fire of the other stallion's mane. But in spite of his best wishes, he just couldn't do it, couldn't allow himself to get any closer to the horrible light. Breaking off his attack with a hiss of despair and rage, he practically shot back into the shadows, this time off to the other stallion's left side, and glared at him.

There had to be a way past that fire...there had to be! He just had to figure it out, without the beautiful big blood filled creature slipping away. It would just be too much to bear, having this opportunity and losing it. The blood would flow for so long from one this large...it would be so warm, so tangy, so delightfully delicious. Without Bile realizing it, a mournful, pitiful whimper escaped his lips, and he surveyed the stallion again with an almost agonized longing. Surely something this wonderful was worth facing the light for, but how?

The whimper died out as rapidly as it had come, replaced once again with the enraged snarl of a caged animal. The irony was, it was a cage that kept him out, rather than one that kept him in, which made him so miserable.

Life just wasn't fair sometimes.

No, no, no, NO! In spite of his best wishes, in spite of his best efforts, Bile could see that this one was going to be a lost cause. He had never been good at complex thought; he didn't even know what complex thought was, truth be told. Consequently, he was at a complete loss for how to deal with this situation. It simply wasn't fair, for the Big Bag of Blood to be so close to him, so tantalizingly close, but to be protected by that horrible ring of Light. How was anyone supposed to make good on their desires if they were so universally thwarted?

But the other stallion was moving away, was stepping farther into the open. It was only a few steps, but for Bile, who had spent his entire life in the safety of the shadows, it was a few steps too far. Once again, he gave voice to his distress, this time in the form of a high-pitched keen that would make a normal Soquili's skin crawl. It just wasn't fair, it wasn't fair!

Bile was incapable of trickery and deviations. His hunting method was, and always had been, straightforward; he stuck to his shadows for his own comfort, not because it gave him any edge. When prey came his way, he went for it; speed, shock, and his massive size were the only edges he brought into battle. In the past, they had served him well. But how could he do anything when there was such an obvious barrier in his way?

He wanted to follow after the stallion. He hadn't yet run away, or flown away, or in any way taken himself beyond reach. It would just be one good lunge, barely a stretch of his real capabilities. But it was a lunge into the open, a lunge made far more dangerous than his previous attempts by the total lack of cover around the Big Bag of Blood. If he went for it and missed, driven off once again by the light that surrounded the other Soquili, he would be exposed.

But.

But.

But.

Breaking off his keen, Bile flattened his ears and lowered his head, the shift into a crouch less noticeable than otherwise because of his already hunched posture. The Big Bag of Blood was doing things now himself, spreading his wings, snarling back. Preludes to departure? Was this his last chance?

Somewhere in the dark recesses of Bile's mind, that one thought finally clicked. If he didn't make good one this, he would lose the greatest opportunity he'd ever had. At once, an angry snarl erupted from his throat and he lunged forward one last time, the speed of his attack faster and more intense than anything he'd yet done. Not caring about the spread wings, not caring about the warning snarl, trying not to care about the light, he went straight as an arrow for the other Soquili's throat...

Only to break off with a howl of rage as one of the flames at Iki'ryo's neck licked out across his nose. Pain, he was used to; pain, he didn't regard. But this wasn't normal pain. This was brutal, flesh melting, worse than anything he'd felt in longer than he could ever remember. He'd always known the light was dangerous, he just hadn't realized why.

He'd broken off his attack, but he was exposed, just as he'd feared. The pain was overwhelming, but exposure registered somewhere in his mind and he cringed into the ground, aware that the firey stallion was now between him and the safety of his rocky canyon. Once again he glared at the fire about the Big Bag of Blood's neck, hating it for everything it had done, everything it had prevented. It was not an attractive look, but he was not an attractive stallion.

And unknown to him, for the first time ever, he was fully visible to anyone creature: hunched back, broken and badly rehealed wings, massive deformed jaws with protruding teeth and tongue, bent legs. Hardly a pretty sight, no matter who was looking at it.

Two sentiments warred for dominance within Bile as Iki'ryo took flight. On one hand, Bile realized with sharp, rage-inducing disappointment that his opportunity was officially gone. With each beat of Iki'ryo's wings, he got farther and farther away, farther and farther beyond Bile's reach. In all honestly, the other stallion would have been 'beyond Bile's reach' if he'd only taken a few more steps away from the shadows of the boulder field, but by taking flight he made the realization of loss sharper and more immediate. Bile wanted to keen his despair, roar his anger, whimper his displeasure; and with his unique ability to vocalize his emotions, he could very easily have done all three at once.

However, fighting with his sensations of loss was an acute sense of relief. In missing his lunge at the stallion, Bile had abandoned the shadows; he was fully exposed to his mortal enemy, light. On top of that, the stallion, with his terrifying mane of flames, had been between Bile and his beloved shadows. Had the other stallion wished it, he probably could have put an end to Bile right then and there; though Bile had brute strength and unorthodox fighting methods on his side, he was almost paralyzed with terror at being out in the open and was distracted with fear of Iki'ryo's mane. But there was no way for Iki'ryo to know what a golden opportunity he was wasting, and it certainly was to Bile's advantage he didn't.

In the end, self-preservation won out over loss. With a burble of joy, as soon as Iki'ryo was out of the way Bile had thrown himself back into the darkness, even going so far as to rub himself against the dark rocks as though to 'reabsorb' the the safety they provided. For a few minutes, he was a writhing mass of joy, albeit terrifying joy.

However, once he had given proper expression to his relief at being back in his beloved darkness, Bile couldn't help but mourn what he had lost. Never before had he been privy to such an awesome possibility; never before had he felt so acutely his own failure. Had he managed to kill the stallion, he would have had more blood than he'd ever before enjoyed at one time, perhaps more than he'd ever enjoyed in his life, period. It would have been so wonderful...

Organized though had never been Bile's strong suit. It was not about to become a strong suit today. However, in the chaotic hodgepdge he called a brain, Bile would file away the days' experiences. Such a wonderful opportunity, ruined because he couldn't tolerate the slightest exposure to light. Perhaps if he were to work on that weakness, the next time such an opportunity came his way he wouldn't be wasting it.