[ b ] Bad Dreams (Vexed to Nightmare & ???)

[rexcorvus]

He was angry.

He was always angry, but the anger surged through him like a wave this time, something heavy and drowning and deep. He wanted to go back to sleep, but the sleep wouldn't take him, its spindly claws receding every time he drew nearer to it.

He didn't know what he wanted, or who he was even angry at; perhaps just himself.

[anemosagkelos]

The sharp-toothed maw yawned as sleep tried to dig deeper into his mind. The changing sky had turned his sleeping patterns upside down and inside out; he could no longer tell how long his naps were now. A languid stretch, he had things to do today. Not that he could really remember what they were, not yet; the downfalls of succumbing to sleep, he supposed. They would come to him once he got moving.

[rexcorvus]

As he stomped through the woods, he could hear the rustle of trees, the soft clicking of branches together, the hum of songbirds. That, too, made him angry, though he couldn't have said why except that perhaps they were grating on his nerves with their sounds of positivity and light.

He stepped on something unexpectedly soft. The earth gave way beneath his hooves, and Vexed stumbled, nearly snapping his leg in the process. He managed to catch himself at the last second, twisting around, and caught sight of something red and bright in the gloomy dimness of the trees.

"What - "

[anemosagkelos]

The bright and red something leapt into the air towards the buck, and then it was gone, replaced by a stag that nudged the buck forward and away from the broken ground.

"Careful, now, you needn't step so harshly if you don't want to make the ground crumble," he advised, straightening and looking at the buck. "What has you so angry, young one?" he inquired after a beat; he could feel the anger radiating off of the zikwa. It was tense and palpable. What would be so inciting to cause such rage, he wondered.

"And before you turn your fury towards me, I would encourage to take a slow, deep breath. Then, if you remain jaded, I shall gladly listen to you rant," Bitter Heartbeat smiled, kindness shining even with the sharp teeth that protruded from his mouth.

[rexcorvus]

It took Vexed a long moment to realize what - or perhaps, who - he was looking at. There was no familiarity in the stag, and Vexed had not ever had the experience of running into one before, but he could feel it, a little. A sense that somehow this one was different than all the others he had met before.

He had, at the very least, heard of this kind before. The ones who had the ability to bless (or was it curse?) others; Vexed wasn't entirely certain whether or not he even believed in such a thing, his eyes narrowing, one of his hooves moving restlessly on the ground. A few stray leaves clustered noisily against his legs.

"I'm angry because - " He stopped, abruptly; he hadn't meant to answer so candidly, but he had started talking without even realizing he was doing so. After taking a breath, he continued flatly, "I don't know what I'm doing and I don't like that I don't know. I don't like not knowing things. I don't like being in situations I can't control."

He wondered if he needed to explain more, but said nothing further, Vexed shifting a little where he stood.

[anemosagkelos]

"An understandable feeling, I'd say," Bitter Heartbeat smiled, his tail swishing idly as he looked at the zikwa. "Control is a funny thing, though, isn't it? The more you try to control what is around you, the less you feel that you can control yourself." Case in point, the young zikwa's rage and how he seemed to be frissioning at the seams. If it wasn't for that skin, he feared the buck would splinter into pieces and that would not do.

"Would you like to know a secret?" he asked, bemused, "No one knows what they are doing, mostly because there is no map that tells us what we should be doing or when we should do it. Everyone has their own growth in their own time, and often times it is fatherhood or motherhood or knowing that while you can make children, you cannot raise them."

He let the conversation pause, taking a step towards the buck, "Now, tell me, what would you like to control? What scares you? Would a bit of courage settle your nerves?"

[rexcorvus]

A part of him was annoyed at the relaxed, easygoing nature of the other. The larger part of him felt strangely off kilter, because Vexed had not expected the response to be one of kindness and patience. Defensive snipes and angry retorts were what he was used to, and he had spent most of his life figuring out that it was what he deserved. So to have the opposite - to have someone unfazed as this kin was - caught him off guard.

That, too, was frustrating, in its own way. Vexed felt his eyes narrow a little. "I suppose that's one way to look at it," he said, almost grudgingly, but it had helped, just a little, even if he hadn't expected it to. Some of the tension went out of him, though he still held himself quite stiffly, Vexed glancing over at the other kin sideways.

"What does that mean?" he asked. "How can you give me courage?"

[anemosagkelos]

"A gift from the Motherfather, for when I was young I was quite terrified of nearly everything," he chuckled; it seemed so long ago and yet it could have been yesterday for that scared child was still held tight within his heart. All that he did, in a sense, was granting the kindness and the courage that a young version of himself had desperately needed. A little bit of courage, sometimes that was all it took.

Bitter Heart stood, lifting a hoof and stomping it down, then lifting another and stomping it against the ground. It was a slow beginning, but the tempo grew and from it that trembling imparted through the ground rose up. Whether it leaked into the air or kissed against a kin's hoof and blossomed within, he didn't really know. Still, those in the vicinity would feel it, a warmth that eased their tension and joined their hearts to bravery and courage. A desire to overcome with a herd of kin at their back for support.

Eventually the sound stilled around them, "Does that help?"

And because the kin seemed, what he would describe, as love starved—and maybe because he could—he separated himself into stag and minibear. The ball of fluff with glowing eyes ambled towards the zikwa with that same toothy grin as the stag that still stood before him. It flopped in front of the zikwa pressing its furry side into the closet foreleg as it to present the buck with a hug, as best as it could.

"I have been told in great confidence that I am a wonderful cuddler," he whispered as if it could have ever been a secret.