(no subject)

[an_evening_star]

"I'm sorry."

It's only somewhere around the millionth time she's said it so far and she would really like to pretend that she's practicing it, only she's not sure for what. The unicorn's hooves clack on the rocky road and she winces with the noise of it - he was not meant for such terrain, let alone when he is carrying her - and she'd be sorry for that too if she hadn't been already.

She shivers miserably and hates the rain - which has refused to stop for days now - more than anything else on this cold, wet, miserable excuse for a world. It had seemed so inviting when she had watched from above, even just before it had seemed as though she could do this - could be fine all on her own. But now she's just shuddering uselessly, hair tangled in darkened coils down her back and completely, utterly lost.

Yvaine rather thinks that she's terrible at lying to herself. She's nowhere near fine.

She misses sheets and blankets and being warm. She even misses the noise of people milling around, useless as they are. And some part of her thinks that she misses him - but that part is smart enough to stay quiet.

The forest looms in thick, shadowy webs above her head and she can barely catch glimpses of the sky between the green canopy. The trees no longer blur past like some wild, spinning freedom. Like something that she wanted.

It's just cold. And wet. And miserable.

She wants to go home.