He awoke. Motionless, he gathered consciousness as though through the earth itself. He strained, trying to rise; failure looming over his attempts likes a storm cloud. A surging feeling hit him. he was cold. Not just cold, icy. Nostalgic, he wandered aimlessly. A sight to behold indeed: pushing his back hoofs, barely gripping the ice, scooting inch after inch.
It flooded in; memories, feelings, words. He fully awoke himself. His mind soothed for a second as warmth returned to his body. Then, he opened his eyes. They twinkled, a light red color. This particular shade was regarded regal among some establishments of Equestria. Almost as to match his red eyes, his surroundings were an odd red as well.
Blood.
He recognized it in an instant, the distinct staining brown upon his vest. Pondering wildly at the distinct redness surrounding him, he began to dust himself off. Snow he suggested The pigment easily was stained a dark crimson, and matched the chill.
He followed this blood trail, sometimes bits of violet flesh littering patches. Tracing the path with his eyes, he spotted its end. A sick pleasure spread across his face. He recognized the welcoming face of this pony, “Cherilee”, they called her. She taught the fillies. He scanned her corpse, looking through the appetizing entrails and organs. Three major organs were missing from the mangled torso; The heart, kidneys, and appendix.
They might find it here. But oh well, It’s an untraceable ritual.
He wiped blood from his scarred muzzle.
