Psychedelic paused where he had cheated his body off in a direction away from the dun stallion and one dark-lined ear flicked back to catch the man’s words. He huffed an annoyed breath and flicked his pale tail out behind his rump, but he still appeared to be thinking. The last place he would think to look… the Lagoon? Salem? Psychedelic shook his head, throwing the thought aside as he glanced over at Nahawi.
“Talya’s different,” was all he offered, then he grinned and it stretched with humor across his lips. “She’s made from me, after all.”
Psychedelic went to walk another step away but paused and threw a glance back at Nahawi again. He appeared thoughtful as he looked him over. “If you want the advice of a crazy old bastard, get out of the Lagoon while you still can. That place…” his voice trailed off. Psychedelic had loved the Lagoon when he was a boy; he had even loved lurking within its comforting quiet the last few years of his life. It had always seemed to fit him perfectly at any point he turned to its embrace.
But that was because he was sick, and the Lagoon was a sick, sick place.
“Too much evil has died in that place,” he concluded at last, shrugging. “The grounds are cursed.”
And then he grinned and laughed softly under his breath, shaking his head again before he turned to leave. “Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure to die somewhere else.” He called over his back and laughed a little bit louder.
Were he not stopped by Nahawi, he would resume his search for Talya, walking for as long as his mind remained focused enough to remember what he was traveling for.
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