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Pegasus slowly planted his forelegs into the water, lowered his muzzle towards the surface, drank long, and then turned his head and looked at Dandelion. The water dripped from his muzzle and nostrils. The poet nodded, sighed once more and sniffed loudly.
"The hero gazed on the maelstrom," he quietly declaimed, trying not to let his teeth chatter. "He gazed on it and travelled on, for his heart knew not trepidation."
Pegasus lowered his head and ears.
"Knew not trepidation, I said."
There was a ticking time bomb inside my head and the one person I trusted to go in and get it out hadn't shown up or spoken to me for more than a year.
That's a lot of time to start asking yourself questions. Who am I? What have I done with my life?
Who can I trust?