I know, it is late, but here it is.

Phion: Young and Old

Phion's eyes manically twitched back and forth behind the kissing lashes of sleep. Her heart beat erratically and laboredly as if she had just run miles and miles. The fawn was in the throes of her nightmare within a sweet dream.

The young one flew through the forest, alone as she sped faster than any bird. Not a single avian chirped, not one frog croaked, not one squirrel barked in the trees as she dove headlong through them. Blue smoke and high-pitched whining always followed her. The numbness of her exhausted legs could not be jolted by the drum-roll of her hooves as they bit cruelly in to the earth. Darkness enveloped the young doe, enrobing her in its inky blackness.

The waters of the pond pooled about the fawn's ankles as she gratefully trod in to the shallows. Phion slowed, proceeding cautiously in to the eerily misty water. Her hooves melted in to the tar-colored yet once-clear water. A light glinted through the reeds at her right, causing the fawn to stand stock-still in the pool. Ears erect, the fawn peered through the tall cattails.

A feathered doe picked her mouth from the inky, cool waters, letting the cold liquid drip down her jaw. A grin that was both beautiful and twisted graced her face. Beneath the green and coal frosted eyes blazed two reddened, hairless streaks. They were burned and chapped, refusing to heal. Painful was the least one could describe their appearance. The fawn could not help but stare even as the doe raised her head and silently, fluidly plodded to her.

Phion. The doe's silky voice caused a shiver down the fawn's spine.

The world disappeared in to blackness, all exempting the two doe and the glowing ripples beneath them. The doe and fawn both smoldered with ethereal phosphorescence. The doe's distorted smile dripped in to her features.

Who am I?The fawn replied.

You are we. The words pulled from both of their throats mingled as one voice, one entity.

We are I, we are you.

Phion peered in to the water. She began to see the beginnings of two harsh lines beneath her eyes, tear-trails. She could see the pins where a pair of dark feathers would blossom, wreathing her pictogram as it began to lower to fit her forehead. The fawn's eyes were darkening from the dream-air, and would soon be deeply clouded by it. Raising her head, she turned to the doe as the doe did to her.

I can not heal. She came to the revelation.

Not ourself. Phion confirmed to her younger self.

We really are but one?

We are but one.

Why can I see this?

To prepare young us for the passage in to adulthood and the pain that it will cost.

Soon?

Soon.

Phion smiled, her eyes betraying the facade as if she did not know what she was thinking. She cried. Inside leaked out, golden and molten down her face, though not painful as it was outside her dreams.

The doe doubled her, crying herself. She stood close now, giving her younger embodiment a start on a consoling phase:
Do not ever mourn yourself,

Even if it is at your own funeral

even if the forest burns around you.

Phion smiled, both young and old, touching foreheads in both greeting and parting as sleep re-took the fawn. It tugged her away from the vision, embracing her as she embraced her future.