Winter was nearly through and for that, Psychedelic was thankful. They’d made it through a season without anyone discovering his identity and each day that passed with him causing no trouble was another day to earn him a bit of trust. If the little voice inside his head would go quiet, he began to imagine he could actually have a decent life in the Forest, watching Talya grow up and keeping her safe and away from stallions with dark intentions. Without the voice reminding him insistently this wasn’t who or what he was, he could probably be content.

Unfortunately, he was never going to be without it.

Damn straight bucko.

Psychedelic snorted and rolled his eyes, scratching an itch on his side by rubbing it against the hard bark of a tree. Little patches of hair came undone, but not nearly as much as he would be shedding in the coming weeks as warmer weather came to them. He couldn’t wait to be rid of his winter coat and see the icy snow melt away for another year.

One thing, however, was he needed to stay busy, but not so busy that he had reason to leave the Forest. Even trekking into the Prairie seemed like a danger, not knowing who their neighbor was exactly or who he had in his herd. Psychedelic had to keep occupied enough that he couldn’t remember how much this wasn’t who he was and how it was inevitable he couldn’t carry on for years and years. Eventually, something was bound to happen. Either Talya would find a stallion and leave him in the dust, or someone who knew him would just happen by the Forest and call him out for the menace he was.

Shaking his head to dispel the feeling of dread beginning to settle within him, Psychedelic decided now was a perfect time as any for one of those distractions he thought of needing. Since Talya was off stalking Persephone as she seemed to love doing, that meant she wasn’t hanging around Aurora. Psychedelic walked through the forest, looking for the kind-hearted mare and trying not to imagine her horror at finding out who he was and what he was actually capable of… or what he might do to her if he wasn’t acting like the docile, older stallion named Bob.

“Aurora,” he greeted as he came upon her in the Forest, opting for a genial smile. He did his very best to appear concerned for her wellbeing. “Are you doing alright here, in the Forest? Is it easier on your eyes?”

Oh please. As if you ACTUALLY care.