I remember my friend. My best friend. And, the times when I used to feel really alone, my only friend.

I knew he blamed himself for everything that happened to me. I told him all the time that it was okay, and it seemed to cheer him back up. For a few weeks or a few months, then he would suddenly feel down again. Crying and apologizing for everything. No matter how many times I told him it was okay, or that I was fine, it was never a permanent solution.

And I think it's because I never told him the truth. Instead of saying how with it I was, I should have just told him that it wasn't his fault. It was mine.

Now I feel alone all the time because my best and only friend is dead.

I held him in my arms, but it wasn't him. Not the one I remembered. That dead boy was thin and frail and had never smiled a day in his life.

We were burying him in the ground when I finally asked what had been bothering me.

"Is that really Mutt?"

Elizabeth didn't look up from the hole. Not completely. Her eyes did trail over to the boy who stood beside her. The boy with the faded red hair and cold, blue eyes.

"Yeah," Foxy said, not looking up from the grave either. "It is."

My body unconsciously stamped its foot, and I moved around my side of the hole for a bit. The boy inside it was just too small. The look on his face too serene. I had always imagined Mutt dying with a smile on his face after a job well done.

Not like this. None of it like this.

"Are you guys sure it's a good idea to leave him here? What if they find him? What if—?"

"We don't have a choice, Georgie," Elizabeth interrupted, finally giving me the icy glare I was waiting for. "This is the best we can do for him."

I didn't say anything and soon she and Foxy began burying the small boy. The unhappy boy.

"I should have done something," I thought out-loud. Forgetting, for just a second too long, that I wasn't the only one who could hear.

"Georgie, there isn't anything you could have done. It was his choice to make."

"Is that what Foxy told you?"

A lump settled into my stomach as soon as the words came out, but I didn't try and apologize for it. I knew the truth when her eyes returned to the hole.

"You never know," Foxy said, catching my eyes in place of hers, "things might have turned out worse if you had been there."

"Foxy!" Elizabeth hissed, and he flinched and looked away.

"I just mean you could have died too," he went on as he continued burying Mutt.

"Yeah."

Elizabeth looked between us, biting her lip and wanting to say something. Instead, a sigh escaped her and she joined Foxy in scooping dirt.

They kneeled very close to each other, even though they didn't have to. Occasionally, their shoulders or arms would touch, but neither said anything. They didn't have to. Foxy and Elizabeth worked in perfect unison. Placing dirt in a hole where a dead boy lay.

If that was really Mutt, then why did he look so different? I had told Foxy I wanted real answers, sooner rather than later. It'd been a week and I still hadn't gotten any. It wasn't until we were burying my friend that words finally came. Before, it felt like a wet blanket had been thrown over my brain. Suffocating my words and ideas.

But now that Mutt was in the ground, that sensation was gone. Instead, something else kept me from talking. Something about how the boy in the hole wasn't actually a stranger to me at all.

...

The walls, furniture, and floor—everything was made out of stone. It was hard to tell what I was looking at. A slab of grey stone there. A pillar of grey stone here. It felt real when I touched it—hard and cold. Not smooth, but gritty. Like I could crush it if I hit it hard enough.

The only thing that wasn't made of stone was a comic book. "The Mutated Marvel, Issue No. 4" was written in green, drippy print on the cover. Below that was a monster. A hideous, melted creature that wore a mask and a flowing cape.

Whenever I looked at it too long, a ringing would start up in my ears and my head would hurt. But, whenever I looked away—

"You should read it."

A woman with 'lifeless' written all over her was sprawled across a chunk of stone that might have once been a couch. Her position could have been mistaken to be seductive, if it wasn't for the frown and the aforementioned 'lifeless' look in her pale blue eyes.

"I'm good." I took a seat on a piece of stone opposite of her. Whatever it once was, it wasn't made for sitting. I endured the sharp points digging into my butt in favor of not having to get up and turn my back on the woman. "So, what's up?"

Ash glanced up for a moment and stared at the grey ceiling before shaking her head. She sat up and leveled with me a glare that I would almost call intimidating. "You are not good. You are wasting away and boring me in the process."

I shrugged. "I'm as good as I can be, considering." There was a rumble that shook the small room and sent pieces of stone crumbling from the ceiling. I quickly changed the topic. "Anyways, how are things going with you and my Master? Are you guys still safe?"

"You can assume as much as I am here, talking with you." Ash sat up and surveyed the room. Her eyes soon came to rest on the comic. "I really think you should read it."

I leaned forward, trying my best to make the witch look back at me. "My Master. How is she?"

Ash stared back at me. There really was nothing to see in her eyes. No way to tell me what she might be thinking.

Finally, she let out a sigh. "She's busy. Tired. Stressed. Her dreams are a washed out mess of colors and sounds. She doesn't even have the time to dream properly. So, beyond that, I cannot say."

"Nothing else?" I pressed.

"I'm sorry," Ash said with a slight shake of her head. "All I know for sure is that she is still alive, and still fighting."

"What about her people?" I asked. "Carlos, Nathan, Liberty...Any of them. You can see their dreams too, can't you?"

"If they are close to my physical body, yes."

Ash didn't say anything further. She watched me instead. It didn't take too long for me to come to the answer on my own. Didn't take long for the new weight to drop in my stomach, either.

"Son is alone?"

"As far as I am able to tell," Ash said. She stared up at the grey ceiling again. "Which is not saying much."

"Right. Yeah." One of my hands unconsciously rubbed over my stomach. Fingers traced over muscle. Hard as stone. "Can you feel sick in your own dream?"

"It would be the first time I have ever seen it." Ash's eyes were quick to find me again "Are you sick in the world I can no longer reach?"

"No, I'm good out there. I mean, I think I am." I rubbed my head, trying to massage away the sudden pressure. "It's kind of hard to tell when you're a horse."

"I wouldn't know."

"Right," I said with a chuckle that came out unintentionally. "Well, consider yourself lucky."

"I would not consider myself that way. Would you like to talk about it?"

"No, it's cool. I think I just need a minute."

Ash made a strange noise I hadn't heard from her before. Something like a 'hmph', but dragged out and ending in an exaggerated sigh. It was enough to make me open my eyes and take in the site of a witch with crossed arms and a pouted lip.

"Is everything cool?" I asked with an unintentional smirk.

"No, it is not," Ash said matter-of-factly. Her lip stayed pouted. "I went through a lot of trouble, working with Alex and Mary, to bring you and that other familiar into my world. I did a lot more than I wanted to because I believed I would get to experience your dreams. I believed I would see things I haven't already seen a thousand times before."

Ash stood up and did a single, slow spin around the room, taking in what little there was to take. "But, now that you all are here, I get nothing. You each sit alone in your little rooms of misery. Stagnating. At least, that is as far as I would know. You are the only one who still lets me visit anymore."

The witch stopped her spin and stared at the ground. I was drawn to the same spot. Deep cracks were forming in the stone, seemingly for no reason.

"I didn't know that's what was going on." My hands found each other and squeezed. "Sorry, Ash."

"I was not asking for an apology." I felt her eyes hover over my head, but I chose not to meet them. "And that is not really what concerns you. What did you think was going on with them?"

I shrugged, but it did little to alleviate the heavy feeling still sitting in my stomach. In fact, it was like that weight fell over my whole body now. I felt stuck to that uncomfortable rock. "I don't know. I guess I figured Elizabeth and Foxy were sharing their dreams. They aren't?"

"Elizabeth?" Ash asked back. "Do you mean Kat?"

Damnit. "Yeah."

"Kat wishes to connect dreams with Foxy. And with you, too."

I looked up and met the witch's pale eyes. "Then why haven't you?"

Ash's eyes took on a degree of anger. "I am strong here, but not all-powerful. If your subconscious doesn't want certain people in your dream, then I cannot override it."

"I never told you El—Kat couldn't share my dreams. How does that even work?"

"I do not know," Ash said with a simple shrug. "I do not make up the rules. If I try something and I cannot do it, I can only assume it is because I can't. Or because someone else is not letting me."

I swallowed. "Well, it's fine, I guess. If Kat really wants to share dreams with me, she can."

The witch slowly shook her head. "That won't work. Not unless you really meant it."

"But I do," I insisted. My hands found my knees as the weight grew worse. I had to fight to keep myself sitting up straight. "Kat's my friend. We've been through a lot together. Why should it matter if she sits in this boring room with me if that's what she wants?"

"You tell me." Ash held up her hands like someone asking where something is. "If you really meant it, she would be here right now."

"I do mean it!" I tried to stand as a sudden surge of anger shot through me. But, couldn't.

I couldn't stand, or lift my arms, or move my head. Everything was so heavy and stiff. Had I become just another slab of stone in this room? Or was it something else?

Ash looked on at me with another expression I had yet to see before. Pity.

"The next time you get the chance," she said as she walked over to me, "I think you should read that comic book."

The witch reached out and touched my forehead.

"Stallion? Hey, we need to get moving."

Elizabeth was kneeling before me. When our eyes met, she removed her hand and stood up. I joined her, but it was a struggle. It always was the first few minutes of a new day in my animal body. No matter how many weeks or months I spent inside it, it was like moving around in a bulky costume.

But I was used to that sensation. For as long as I can remember—

"Everything alright?" I asked as I found my legs. I stomped my hooves a few times to get most of the feeling back.

Looking around, I was at first surprised to see where we were. Mutt's grave. Apparently, I had fallen asleep right next to the small pile of dirt.

"Mouse is here," Elizabeth answered, directing me with her eyes to the other two people sharing the spot with us. "She's giving Foxy the update."

I was going to ask her if she knew the nature of this update, but I could sort of tell by the stiff way Foxy stood—his eyes never leaving the ground, and Mouse's folded arms. She also was talking in a hushed voice, something I almost didn't think she was capable of, after all the 'conversations' we've had.

"Looks serious," was all I could think to say.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Whatever it is, Foxy will know what to do."

Nothing I could say to that. The hard lump was back in my stomach, and with it came the dream I had the night before. The feeling of powerlessness over a stupid comic book. The idea of it like the weight of an entire world I had long forgotten pressed over my entire body.

As I tried to re-forget it all, a few things came to mind that I wanted to say to Elizabeth. But nothing that I wanted Mouse or Foxy to over-hear. And the way things were now there was nothing I could say that wouldn't be overheard by familiars like me.

Why had I decided to stay a horse again? The question dangled in my brain for a moment before I released it. Just another thing to re-forget.

But, why was I here? Why had I come? My best friend was dead. My Master needed me. I had a purpose before, and now we were running. Running where? Why? When would we stop? What would happen then?

Someone placed a hand on my side. I almost didn't feel it through the bulk of my body, but it was enough to remind me that I wasn't still alone in a room made of stone.

"Thank you for coming, Stallion," Elizabeth whispered. Her green eye pierced me while the blue pierced nothing. "We would not have made it this far without you."

I nodded, but was that even true? I looked to Mouse and Foxy to break Elizabeth's staring. Between the two of them, things could have worked out. Between Mouse's plans and schemes and Foxy's sheer willpower, there wasn't really a place for me. I tried to do the selfless thing by being here, but I was just dead weight.

I moved forward without thinking, and one of my hooves sunk into soft dirt. Into Mutt's grave.

No, I was being selfish, too. My real reason for coming wasn't for Elizabeth or Foxy. It was for him. A dead boy. Someone who no longer cared one way or the other.

"Stallion?" Elizabeth called.

"Oh, hey, you're awake."

Mouse and Foxy were looking at me now. She tried a smile and seemed to realize how forced it was before even finishing. He didn't make an expression at all. Foxy had kept just as silent as I had the days leading up till Mutt's burial. If he looked like anything I could put a word to, it was tired. A sort of tired that no amount of sleep seemed to cure.

"I am," I said, stepping back and away from the small mound of dirt. "So, what's the word?"

Foxy opened his mouth, but Mouse spoke up first. "A change in plans."

The smallest familiar moved until she was standing right beside Mutt's grave, an equal distance between the rest of us. She hardly even glanced at the dirt. "Fawn approached me last night. Seems that even I can't protect my thoughts from familiars who have been in the business for years."

"She knows you're helping us?" Elizabeth asked, her voice hard. She was already gearing up for a fight.

"Yes, but, in her words, she's not planning on turning me in. In fact, she wanted me to tell you all that she wants to meet, with all of us. In secret."

Foxy's arms were folded now and I caught the way his hands clenched against skin. The way Kat's hands remained balled into fists told me she was still ready for a fight. But neither said anything, even though I was sure they both knew what Mouse was doing. It's what she always did when we had our...'conversations'. No matter the topic, if she knew something I didn't, she would always build it up. Waiting until the last moment and leaving me floundering until finally dishing it out. This was no different.

"What is she wanting to talk to us about, Mouse?"

Elizabeth and Foxy both looked my way. Were they surprised? Maybe those years of shouting matches with Mouse actually added up to something.

Mouse certainly looked impressed. But, I could have never of guessed what her answer was going to be.

"Fawn knows where the witch who made us lives. The Knower of animals."

...

*Author's Note*

And here we are, the beginning of the end.

It's the first time I've had a chapter from Stallion's point of view. Specifically first person. I would like to know if you all believe it sounds like him. Surprisingly, it was a bit more of a struggle capturing his character through first person then it is in third.

Other than that, whatever your thoughts, I would still very much like to hear them.

Gear up, my foxy ones, things are about to get real.