As night had fallen, slumber had taken him swiftly. Leaning against a tree farther from the edge of the herd than usual, the moon had risen up above the clouds and the wintry birds had ceased their titterings and the stallion's eyes had begun to droop...

At first, he had not thought that he had fallen into a dream, as with any sort of trickery, he found himself standing in the forest, a thick fog lying about his feet and not a soul in sight. Assuming that the herd had wandered off and he had slept through their waking processes, he moved forwards, legs jerking against the ground. A tremor of terror rips through his body as he peers down to find his legs cemented into the ground, hooves melting like tar into the grass. Struggling against the grab of the earth, the stallion starts to try and rip his melting hooves away, trying to rear up or kick out, but his feet remained fastened and pooling on the sticky ground beneath him. Vercingetorix screams, and as his cry echoes against the trees around him, he hears laughter, cutting through the fog and finding his ears. It is a sickening sound, and he feels as though he knows it all too well...

It was just before recognizing the sound that he awakens, finding that the sun had only just begun to rise over the trees in the distance. His skin was slick with sweat, but he did not seem to have bothered anyone in the group. Twisting his head downwards, he examines his hooves and licks at his hocks for a moment or two before turning back to the trees.

With one final glance back towards the herd, the red stallion moves off into the trees, quietly disappearing into the forest and walking for a time. It felt like hours had passed, and by the time he stopped walking, finding himself at the edge of a river that coursed through the trees. Staring at the water for a moment or two, the Vercingetorix inches forwards until his front legs are in the softly running water, feeling it's icy cold cutting into his skin before he leans forward and drinks.