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It had been a few weeks since the disbanding of the great Kalona herd, and a relative peace had started to return to the region. Though it would be some time before the locals were truly able to relax, the deep sense of gloom and paranoia had started to disburse.

Well, the gloom had started to lift in most parts of the region.

The battle in which Antony, Loveless and Corsant had fought had proved to be the last major action of the Kalona invasion. There had been no need for the family to worry about further fighting or fleeing; instead, they were able to focus on rest and recuperation, from wounds both physical and emotional.

Since their return from the battlefield, Corsant had spent almost every minute of every day in a state of near-listlessness in his clearing by the stream. Every so often he would head back up to his parents' place to see how his father was recovering and see if his mother needed anything, but he was quick to return back to his stream. He knew his odd preoccupation with isolation was probably worrying at least his mother, but he wasn't even up to faking the desire for company right now.

Nothing had felt right since before the fight. Ever since then, he had been in a mental fog. It didn't help that he was barely sleeping; no sooner did he close his eyes in sleep than he was forced awake by dreams of a terrifying nature.

His wounds were healing nicely; though he was disinterested in everything at best, he was still methodical in his wound care. Each day he cleansed the wounds and applied fresh plant poultices to disinfect and speed healing. A few had already closed over, and even the larger ones were starting to show improvement. The scalp wound was the worst, which was only to be expected; it had been the size of his hoof when fresh.

Cuttin his hair had been a sensible plan, he reflected absently. With that huge bloody bald patch to treat, his long blond mane had been more of a hinderance than ever. Before, he might have been ecstatic at having a real justification to cut off the long hair he'd never liked. However, when the last strand of hair had been shaved off, he felt nothing. Even now, weeks after the fact, he felt...nothing.

Corsant had had a few anxieties about a some his siblings during the Kalona incursion, but neither of his brothers had made that list. Anthone was far too stealthy to be caught out if he didn't want to be, and Lanzo was too much of a hermit to get pulled into the fighting. Both of them could no doubt kick a** if the situation meritted, but neither was likely to go in flying off the handle, unlike some Soquili he could think of.

Starting with himself.

He had been surprised to hear his brother's voice, and had turned to look at him with wide eyes. No doubt the eyes looked particularly huge against his shorn head, with only the lightest of peach fuzz showing where his mane would grow back. The scalp wound was no longer raw and red, but it was certainly ugly and very noticable, as was the criss-crossing of healing gashes and lacerations across his body. It was no wonder Lanzo found him a sight to behold, and not in a good way.

It was a genuine pleasure to see his twin brother, though, and he tried to look properly enthusiastic as Lanzo sank down beside him. Both Corsant's tone and expression were missing something that had always been there, and even he himself noticed the lack. Which was a pity, because he would never want to cause Lanzo to feel any more pain on his behalf than his brother could possibly avoid. "Lanzo, it is so good to see you, and to see you looking well." He started to go on, then realized that if he himself was a shock, then Lanzo could not have seen Loveless and Antony before seeing him. Best to be sure, though.

Carefully, he asked, "So then...you haven't been up to see Mom and Dad recently, then?" Which was just as well; Antony was healing up nicely and Loveless had avoided serious injury, but the emotional state there was still a little...intense. And Tony's wound was still nasty to look at, made worse by the natural paleness of his coat. But Corsant didn't want Lanzo to get the wrong idea, and he hastily hurried on to add, "They're ok now, so don't worry about them. And you shouldn't worry about me, either," He smiled a somewhat lopsided smile, one that didn't make it to his eyes, in spite of his best efforts. "Despite evidence to the contrary, I'm doing ok."

So much for alleviating his brother's concern; if anything, Corsant seemed to have made Lanzo's anxiety worse! Obviously his recent trauma had done nothing to break his old habit of saying the wrong thing, he reflected wryly. It was nice to know that some things hadn't changed, even if the rest of his world was turning on its head. Raising one wing in what was meant to be a placating gesture, he tried to calm his brother down.

"I'm sorry, Lanzo, I went about that a**-backwards, as usual. Chalk it up to me being me, I guess. I'm sure that Mum and Dad would be happy to see you, but things have been a bit rough around here lately. I am glad to see that you're safe, though, and to know that you never got involved in any of this." He blinked, suddenly aware that he was getting teary again. Damned emotions, flaring up at the most inopportune times! Lately, it seemed that he was either feeling dead to the world or else breaking down into hysterical weeping; neither was a state he particularly enjoyed.

Turning his head, he blinked rapidly a few times to clear away the tears. "Excuse me, I've been a bit..." He paused, trying to think of a way to explain himself, then snorted. "You know what, I'd better just begin at the beginning. I'm just making an even worse muck of things by trying to pick up later on." He sighed and shook his head, then launched into a somewhat terse explanation of the great Kalona herd's invasion. As he spoke, he reverted back to the emotionless state, wrapping himself in what had become a safety blanket of detachment.

In as concise a manner as he could, he told his brother what they had learned about the Kalona herd; the massacre of the Kawani Soquili, the continuing spread of the invaders into their land. How he and Tony had gone to surveil the herd and ended up fighting for their lives. How Loveless had arrived at some point, and how he and Loveless had both seen what had seemed to be Tony's end at the teeth of a Kalona. Their great luck in finding an alicorn with the energy to save Tony's life. How they had learned since that that fight was the last hurrah of the Kalona herd, and how the herd had withdrawn.

Winding up his narrative, he glanced back at his brother, the glazed, dead look in his eyes fading out and being replaced by mere dullness. "Dad is still recovering. The alicorn, Wyeth, was able to save his life, but he couldn't do a full heal. The damage was just too great. Mum wasn't hurt much, but I don't know how well she's doing mentally. She hasn't said anything, but I know Dad had been worried about Mum's past affecting her if she ended up fighting again. She's been focused on Dad, though, and I haven't had much of a chance to talk to her about things." He didn't add that he hadn't been trying to, yet; it would be far too easy for Loveless to turn the tables on his own mental state, and he wasn't ready for that conversation, not yet.

Addressing the elephant in the room, he gestured to himself with his wings. "I got a bit beaten up, as you can see, but nothing life-threatening. A few nasties, but I'm being careful with them. Gave me an excuse to have my hair cropped." He tried to laugh at that; it was a well-known fact how much Corsant loathed his long hair, and always had. But the laughter was hollow, and he could see that Lanzo wasn't taken in. He'd never been able to fool his brother.

Standing up, he turned his back on Lanzo and strode a few paces closer to the stream. He stared down into the water in the brooding manner that had become all too common, processing Lanzo's questions about his own health and well-being. After a long pause, he finally whispered, "I don't know what I want anymore."

Corsant managed a lip-twitch of a smile at Lanzo's comment about how good he looked; obviously they both knew Corsant looked a wreck, but in the same way they always harassed each other about looking horrid when they were both in the picture of health, so too would they deny the obvious when there was something wrong. That was what brothers did, wasn't it? Bolster each other's spirits when they were down, try to drag each other out of whatever spiritual ditch they'd tumbled into, that sort of thing. So Corsant could appreciate the sentiment, he'd done something similar himself on numerous occasions. So why didn't he feel any better now?

He sat silently as Lanzo draped his wing over him, listening to what his brother said and trying to make it apply to himself. He had to admit it was true, that he normally loved being around people. Hadn't he even spent his 'alone' time in their youth seeking new adventures with their cousin, or Mari?

Mari.

Once again, he winced, dropping he head to bury his face in his wings. Any possibility of him getting enjoyment out of the company of anyone while this weight hung over his head was impossible; every day, he played over their last meeting, his behavior, her reaction. He saw the shock and fear in her eyes, the image a constant reminder of the guilt he carried with regards towards his best friend. It was right up there with the weight of the lives he'd taken in the fight; indeed, as horrible as it probably sounded to admit, he felt worse about Mari than about the blood on his hooves. After all, those Kalona would have killed him if he hadn't killed them, so it was justified.

Though that did nothing to stop the nightmares...

From within the safety of his wings, his muffled voice emerged. "You don't understand, Lanzo. What I did...I don't know if I can ever make it right again. You weren't there. You didn't see how she looked at me!" He was so distraught over the whole thing that it didn't occur to him that Lanzo might not have the faintest idea what, or who, he was talking about!

For his part, Corsant would have been content to have never seen the inside of the darkness. It might have protected him and his parents during the fight, but if they'd never gotten involved in that fight then they never would have needed that protection. What was once seen could not be unseen; only time would allow the sight to soften, to blur. Corsant didn't know how long that would take, or if it was even possible in all cases. He himself had always been so upbeat, so happy, so full of light...

How strange this must be for Lanzo, to see him like this. It truly was best for Corsant to be alone that this time; he couldn't imagine what those who knew him would think. It was bad enough with Lanzo; the pity in his brother's eyes was barely discernable, but it was still there.

Fortunately for both of them, Corsant wasn't in a state to read too much into that pity, or feel any shame. There was too much else going on, too much else to preoccupy and distract. "I don't know, Lanzo. I might have believed that time was all she needed if I hadn't seen her face. I have no idea what I must have looked like, what I must have done to inspire that kind of reaction. She's never been afraid of me, never. She might not ever trust me again, and I don't even know where to begin looking for her if she doesn't come back. I can't let this go, Lanzo; how can I ever look myself in the eye again if I know that I'm always going to be a monster in a memory?"

Particularly in her memory...