Ugly, dark woods twisted their boughs in barricade, rattled their leaves in jeering giggles, and huddled closer and closer in devious secrecy. Octobre panted openly, head a mess of regret and confusion--exhaustion. She did not know where she was. She could not find the way out. Each choice, each path, brought her no nearer to finding an exit. No, each turn brought her only deeper into the forest. Her mask was shattered, and her expression was thus twinged with panic and frustration. Everything was going wrong. Why had it become like this? She was alone, even more alone than she had been before. Had that even been possible?! Yes, for here she was. Pathetic, hopeless.

You did this to yourself, her psyche reminded her. She nearly spat in response. Hopeless!

Like a frantic filly did she meander through vines, moss, creek-wide trunks. Her wings physically itched, begging her to fly, but she could not reason with them, could not explain that they couldn't help her--not now. It was took thick. How could she get out? A vision of a charging black stallion with a skull mask over murderous eyes flashed through her mind's eye and she paused mid-step to catch her breath. She had left him behind, used, as he had been using her. It was of no consequence to her, or so she had thought. But perhaps he knew those woods better than she? Perhaps he was on her trail now, hunting her down like a beast, eager to put an end to her feeble life? How had she let it come to this? Where had her confidence gone? Dashed, snatched away by shadowy fingers of trees.

Braxton, the name passed through her like a beam of light, but it caused such great pain to the darkness in her that she pressed her face into rough bark and silently begged the air for relief. When the moment passed, Octobre pressed on, encouraging herself--or lying--that this time, she would find her way. This time, the trees would clear and she would begin to see daylight again. She would be free of everything. She would be free. Freedom...freedom from what? She was captive by more than those woods. Her eyes burned. And as they burned, so, too, did two other pairs, but for an entirely different reason.

Blue flame licked the observer's face from four eyes and slit lips, cool to her, but treacherous to all else. Her head moved slowly in tracking the observed one's movements. She was silent as the oaks save for the fire's flickering whispers. The mare she watched was a frazzled mess--hair unkempt, eyes wild, breaths unsteady. She reminded Hex somewhat of a rabid squirrel. But there was no amusement tied to that small comparison. Hex's brows were furrowed, nostrils flaring. The distraught mare, lost as she evidently was, unfortunately continued toward the direction of Hex's precious rose bushes. A disturbance in those woods was bad enough, but to disturb the roses...it would not be born. Hex would not allow it. And yet despite her conviction, her heart wavered with fear, and her paws trembled against the earth.

Go away, she begged the other mare in her mind, go away! But the mare could not hear her. Hex was often faced with choices in her life, but the choice of whether or not to speak to an Other was by far her most challenging. She looked to the trees for strength, taking courage in their stability. She inhaled slowly, skullfire sputtering at the touch of air. Not yet. She would watch. Her mouth found the scarf she kept around her neck and she nervously pulled it around her face to dampen her stubborn light. Why couldn't she quell the flames when she most wished to?!

Octobre was completely unaware that that part of the woods was occupied by more than just small animals and insects. As exhaustion continued to press down on her weak bones, she felt her legs giving out from under her. Soon she would collapse completely. Adrenaline kept her going. Yes, she was afraid. She had done something quite daring to Takka, and in that moment had ceased to fear him, but now...now she was afraid. Afraid of what he could become. Afraid of what he may do if he chose to follow after her. Afraid of what would become of her. Octobre didn't want to die. But she had put herself here. It was her fault. If she was killed, could she place all blame on the one who sought to kill her? No...she had put herself here.

This was what she wanted.

Revelation came crashing down over Octobre like sycamore, and she fell heavily into the ground. She couldn't feel anything, not even the impact. She was numb. Weak. Alone. Lost. Hungry. Tired. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Dead.

No, not dead--not yet. But she knew it plainly now. She could see it clearly, like a reflection in mid-air. She knew it now.

She had been wanting to die.

Hex's flames diminished at nearly the same moment she heard the collapsed mare release one low, mournful sob. Hollow eye sockets watched curiously, but distrustfully. The brightly-marked mare had witnessed her share of deceit. Others hurt. Others betrayed. Others were bitter and cruel. The Goddess, Hex interpreted, was always neutral in her whispers of Others, leaving Hex to choose her own understanding, as she left her to choose all things. The Goddess was benevolent. And so for a few moments, Hex chose to reflect that benevolence. She watched the winged mare shudder in silence--crying, living...yes, she was living like all things. But Hex could take that life away. If she chose to, she could burn the mare alive. She could burn the entire forest down...flame sparked back to life in her skull.

As soon as that tiny sound cracked in the heavy air, Octobre was on her feet facing its direction. She could hardly believe her own eyes, and for a moment she remembered the tales of Wisps she had been told as a filly. Blue fire danced in the black between trees, seemingly of its own accord. Octobre stared in wonder and uncertainty. Her self-preservation was back at the forefront of her mind, at least for now. She took a careful step back as if to test if the flames followed. They did. Octobre swallowed dryly, still out of breath. Another step. The flames followed. Another. And still. It was only a moment after that final step that a picture formed for Octobre. Her mind put the pieces together--four eyes and a stitched mouth, fire pouring out of each opening. Octobre's became pinpricks of terror, and in an instant she was rushing away, running as fast and as hard as her near-broken body could manage. Under normal circumstances she might've inquired as to who the owner of the face was, or at least paused to ascertain whether or not they posed a threat. But these were not normal circumstances.

Hex pursued her quarry for several spans, bellowing, "LEAVE THIS PLACE!" once as she went. It was good that the gray mare was leaving, but Hex couldn't leave Others unattended until she knew for certain they were headed in the proper way out. What would she do if they got lost and mistakenly found their way back? Anxiety electrified her heart at the thought. And so she made sure. She pursued the mare like an unholy sheepdog, herding her charge in bounding sweeps and arcs. And then, all at once, she stopped and turn back. The exercise hadn't done much to her physically, but mentally she was exhausted. In slow, but positive steps, hex made her way back to her favorite clearing to meditate. She would tell everything to The Goddess, seek advice, counsel, comfort...and if she received none, she would take solace in the gentle kisses of roses and the friendly whispers of leaves. Strange how in such a lonely place, she was not alone.

And yet that mare...she had been alone. Alone and afraid. And Hex had made it worse.

Her next inhale came sharper than she intended, and she bit against her own teeth to steady herself. She had made her choice. It was done. It had been for the best. She had chosen. It was over. Over. Finished!

The echo of a single anguished sob resounded in Hex's head, and in response she let out a silence-splitting cry to the blocked-out sky.