Desreal: The world will never, ever be the same.

At first, Delilah thought nothing of her friend’s confession. She did not dwell on the comments either, for it could never have crossed her mind that either Oceantree or Fantome had the ability to betray her trust in such a fowl way. She smiled brightly, perhaps stupidly in her blissful ignorance and stretched her small soft nose to nuzzle gently across the furrows of anxiety across the other mare. There was a difference lingering around Oceantree, one which the young bay recognised immediately, but the last time they had spoken she had been in a similar state. It seemed as though a cloud of apprehension had gathered about her body for the long term.

“I don’t understand?” She giggled, a slightly confused sound that sought a reply different to that which was first offered. “The Desert?” Delilah continued, tilting her face to the right a little as though it might clarify the Illusionist’s words. “Is Fantome ok? He has come home you know. Wolfrange is in political chaos at the moment, I have not found the opportunity to find him.” She smiled still but it was weaker as she struggled to fit her own meaning around the admission of her pregnancy.

“Oceantree, she stammered… “That is a wonderful thing, not one to apologise for.” Delilah’s own heart fluttered with excitement as she thought about the prospect of her own children, and her eyes sparkled with praise. “Who is the father?” A strange guilt seeped from her friend’s nervous face, and Delilah’s soft smile began to sink away. She did not understand, again, what was being presented.

“What is going on?” She asked suddenly, looking away from the other horse to where a small group had gathered to graze in the dappled sun. A strong, unexplainable sense of foreboding began to swarm through her body and her skin flinched now with agitation.

Delilah
bronze | lightning II | andarin