Fairy tale Dark

Tamlin was wandering aimlessly. His little patch of Helovian flora had failed to make him feel at home, no matter how many familiar flowers and small bushes he grew the climate here in this damned dimension would be a constant reminder that he was not home in the Edge. And somehow he was unable to grow trees, something that had not been a problem before. He was used to making all sorts of plants - with different levels of effort of course, but now it seemed impossible. However, those glum thoughts were far from his mind now as he was almost skipping through the forest. He had happened upon that luminescent rodent, looking like a mix between a rabbit and a squirrel, which was his favorite pray - for it was slow and easy to see. So he had speared it on his horn and then he grew two large lotuses out of its blood. He ate the flowers and now he was soaring high in euphoria. While stoned, Tamlin was a different stallion altogether. He was calm and talkative and somehow he even cared more about other beings. He was miles apart from the gruff, mean stallion he was while sober or during his withdrawal. Between the trees the deadbeat stallion suddenly saw a familiar form and an unexpected wave of guilt washed over him. That big, autumn colored girl had been the first horse he’d hurt to feed his addiction. She had explained to him about the fall of the gods and he had thanked her by hurting her. Young fillies and colts should not be alone. He should have helped her find her family, not push his horn through her skin. Slowly he walked towards Otem and the dragonfly willow she was standing beside. Her owl would probably warn the girl of his presence before he had the time to speak, but as soon as he was close enough he opened his mouth. “Otem.” he said, softy. Just a simple word, her name, but still with a vast range of emotions behind it.

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