Common

Falling asleep was never fun, and Svetka never enjoyed it. Of course, it wasn't true sleep, really, but trying to explain to them why she called it drowning wasn't enjoyable either. It wasn't like curling up on the ground on a soft bed after a long day, where one could enjoy the relief of a rest. Instead, it was like someone grappling you and forcing your head under the surface of wakefulness, no matter how hard you fought to break the surface.

She hated it.

Almost as much as she hated waking up from those moments. Confusion came first, and though the rest of her body remained stationary, her ears twitched as each wave rolled in. She could hear the garbled sound of hoofbeats on rock-? No, sand? Except that didn't make sense. The Cove's southern beaches were of black rock, not of sand. And the lakeshore didn't have waves.

One bright green eye cracked open against the glare, only to have the sun's brightness disappear as a massive shape suddenly loomed. Her eye shot the rest of the way open in surprise and she scrambled away from it - as much as a sleep-drunk, exhausted, and prone mare could. Her ears pinned into the soaking wet tangle of her mane and she bared her teeth, pale hooves scuffing across the sand as she rolled herself upright. Her balance was still not wholly returned and she nearly went too far, saving herself only by an ungainly swing of her neck.

"No! Go away!" Is what she tried to say, but what the giant black creature would have likely heard was something more akin to "N'goway!"