Huckleberry listened eagerly, his brain trying to keep up with what Pride was saying. It was so weird, him explaining how, exactly, magic was used. Huckleberry had never needed to think so deeply to create lightning. It was simply ingrained in his brain - usually his emotions led the way. And all the talk about control made him a little nervous. Control, after all, was the one thing he struggled with most, especially with himself. Lightning, on the other hand, that couldn't be controlled. It could be directed, but from there it went its own way. Unpredictable and dangerous.

Huckleberry closed his eyes, trying extremely hard to do what Pride was telling him to do. But he was finding it hard to concentrate on a type of magic that was so different from his own. His wind magic was one thing, but this was something else. Wind and lightning went hand in hand - natural elements that Huckleberry felt comfortable shifting at a whim. But using pure magic energy was like trying to walk both directions at once.

In his attempt to try and deviate from his own electricity magic, Huckleberry instead unintentionally switched to the pressure magic he had recently begun to take on. A few moments of him concentrating, trying his best to do what Pride did, and a moment later, the air stirred in front him at the place that he was focusing on. As he breathed out, the wind from his mouth suddenly darted forward and twisted at the spot. Where he had intended a copy of himself to emerge, instead a small, weak tornado suddenly burst from the air of his breath.

He jumped back with a startled cry and immediately cut off the magic. A few seconds later and the wind was back to normal. Panting heavily and eyes wide, he managed to gasp, "Oops, sorry. I guess I need to work on that."

@Pride

Pride peered at the dust devil with interest, taking a quick couple of steps back just in case. His hooves clicked on the ground. After a beat, with sudden inspiration, he--or one of him, anyway--trotted forward, and straight into the tiny maelstrom. The Pride-Double had barely entered the wind, however, when Huckleberry cut it off with a gasp.

Pride glanced to him. "...Fascinating!" he said, with clear enthusiasm. "I wonder, was that related to the doubling spell? What can it be used for--how powerful is it? I was about to test it, but-..." He nodded off toward other-Pride, who turned and watched with eerily blank eyes.

Pride's mind already raced with possibilities. "You could fill such a thing with shards of ice, I should think--or fire! Imagine that! Or use it, perhaps, to travel up onto hard-to-reach ledges," he added, with a distinct tone of good-natured humor, toward Huckleberry. He wasn't sure whether the hybrid would get his little joke, but it hardly mattered. With a sudden spark of inspiration, he left the double to fade, even as he peered with amusement at Huckleberry.

He felt the magicka flicker into being at last, and for a beat--briefly--he tried to take note of what Huckleberry was thinking and feeling. Seeking, if only for a moment, any hint of a trap or a plot. Then, in the same tone of humor, he spoke directly into the other's mind--Here--can you hear me? Do you know of this magic? The possibilities of magicka, I believe, are endless. It is our task to but shape it as we desire.

@Huckleberry

Huckleberry, being more then a little unobservant, did not get the joke at all. He was too busy trying to imagine all the possibilities. Maybe rocks would work. Or lightning! He could make a lightning storm! That would be cool.

As Pride's mind touched his, he would probably have trouble making sense out of any of Huckleberry's thoughts and emotions. They were jagged, unpredictable, and almost as brief as lightning. It was utter chaos within the mind of Huckleberry; the way that he managed to make a little sense out of himself only came from living in that mind for cycles. And, perhaps, the need to impress Blackberry. It was obvious that there was much strain on his subconscious to keep himself as one, controlled creature.

But if Pride managed to make sense of all the chaos, he would probably feel a deep, brooding hatred, a sense of fear, and the tiniest glimmer of hope, all mixed together into one swirling storm that raged through the cracks of his emotions. And whatever he was searching for, a trap, a plot, or any sign of deceit, was nowhere to be found.

On the outside, Huckleberry gave a little jump with surprise at the sudden voice in his head. He whipped around, certain that Pride would be standing behind him, but there was nothing. He turned back, giving his head a shake before staring at Pride wide-eyed. "I can hear your voice in my head! Is that magic? That's so cool! How are you doing that?"

@Pride

Pride peered at Huckleberry for a long moment, gently letting the link slip shut before allowing himself any sort of reaction--or that's what he tried to do, at least. When his own words had faded, and he began to prod, he felt the storm within the other's mind. The storm so much like his very magic.

The stag was shocked by it, and more than that, he was grieved. This poor creature, he thought to himself; the words, at least, did not come through (or not clearly, anyway). His emotions, however--the immediate sympathy and pity--were broadcast in a short and intensely sad moment just before Pride managed to shut the link down.

He cleared his throat, and tried to swiftly cover it with smooth speech, but there was a break to his voice. He was still reeling from the revelation of poor Huckleberry's state of mind. "It is-... a mind-link," he explained softly. "I believe we can shape magic into anything we desire. But one must be careful--for it works both ways." He fervently hoped that not too much had slipped past his defenses. I really need to work on that, he thought grimly. But he hadn't expected to be overwhelmed by emotion when tapping into a potential spy.

@Huckleberry

Huckleberry felt the emotion from Pride and it shocked him. For a second he forgot his surprise at having an intruder in his mind and focused solely on the sense of pity. It was such an alien emotion, strange and unheard of - he had never known anyone to pity him before. His chaos, his inability to control anything, that had all been something to be beaten out, to be fixed, and to hate, not to pity. To have someone acknowledge that unpredictable nature not with anger but with sadness was new and Huckleberry didn't know how to respond.

So he stared blankly as he tried to comprehend what exactly he was feeling. "Y-yeah," he muttered without really hearing himself. Pity? Was that what waited for him beyond his family? Pity, protection, love, and healing? Because none of those, besides a one-sided love, would ever exist in the world he lived in now.

He shook his head, as if trying to clear scattered thoughts (which was exactly what he was doing) and stared at his feet, not really knowing what to say.

@Pride

Pride stared for a beat, and he guessed--though he wasn't certain--that he had indeed accidentally sent Huckleberry some of his own thoughts or emotions. For a moment he stood grim, uncertain how to act. Pity was unlikely to be received well. He is likely ashamed, or angry, thought the deer--using his only reference point of being an overly-proud stag.

"...I am sorry," he said more softly, at length. "It is not my intention to insult you, or the like. Here-..." Pride focused his magic more intently, and attempted to lift Huckleberry straight off the ground by a few inches. "Can you fly, on your own? With magic I can lift objects, and others--so long as they are not too big--for a short time."

He offered an apologetic smile--his attempt at making up for the perhaps rude faux pas. And, if Huckleberry did not seem too upset by the prospect of being in the air, Pride would then move him around just a little bit--sweeping him slowly in one direction--to gently imitate flight. He would keep him close to the ground, for safety's sake, but it was being airborne nonetheless.

If Huckleberry doesn't seem okay with flying around Pride will totally NOT do this!

@Huckleberry

Huckleberry jerked suddenly as Pride's voice brought him back to reality. Insult him? No, no no not insulting! He opened his mouth to protest and say that he hadn't at all hurt his feelings when he felt his entire body wobble. A moment later he was rising off the ground. His wings immediately flared with surprise, giving a few flaps to steady himself but found that it wasn't necessary. He looked down with surprise. He was flying? But he wasn't using his wings!

He stared at Pride with shock before his face split in a huge grin. "Oh wow, I'm flying but I'm not flying! Wow, you can do that with magic?" He let himself be taken by the magic, gently sweeping above the ground. While he could certainly go faster farther up using his own wings, it was very relaxing to be able to fly without any kind of effort, even if he couldn't steer his direction. "Wow this is fun! If you want, I can make you fly too!"

@Pride

Pride was warmed at the sight of the hybrid flapping his wings, of his apparent joy at his sudden flight. At Huckleberry's offer, though, Pride's kind smile froze on his face. Uh-oh, was his first thought, followed closely by fly how? Can he do this too, or does he intend to toss me into the air with his dust devils? Mental images of his own squealing form falling to the rock meters below, legs shattering on impact, antlers crashing on stone as his neck snapped--... Pride gave the only answer that a well-bred gentleman or lady stag could, his voice still smoothly kind.

"I would love that," he answered simply, no trace of the trepidation that ran through his thoughts slipping into his voice.

His intention was to keep Huckleberry flying around a few moments longer, but to his own disappointment he felt his magic failing, and hastily--but carefully--set him down.

"I cannot keep it going for very long," he explained apologetically. And then--as the only concession to his own worries, but with a decidedly humorous tone--he added, "I do hope yours is more stable than mine."

@Huckleberry

As soon as Huckleberry's feet touched the ground he gave a little bounce of excitement and opened his wings. Oh, this was going to be fun! He was sure that this would go extremely well and Pride would be able to fly around with him! He opened his wings and picked himself up into the air and flew over the body of the stag. "Yeah! I'll pick you up and we'll go flying! It's a lot of fun!" Completely unaware of how exactly heavy the stag was, Huckleberry lowered himself and wrapped his front limbs around Pride's torso. But as soon as he started to pull upwards, flapping his wings heavily, he found that he was no match for the deer's weight.

He grunted with effort as he pulled harder, his wings using all their strength to try to lift them off the ground. A warm feeling spread across his gem and jets of wind began to writhe around them, pushing under his wings to try and bolster his flight, but even that wasn't strong enough to get the two of them off the ground.

Eventually, he gave up and released Pride from his grip, flying back over to his original spot, extraordinarily embarrassed by his failure. "Uh, well, I guess not then. Sorry, I'm not strong enough to carry you..."

@Pride

Pride peered back over at Huckleberry, quite surprised that the creature could fly on its own. There'd been absolutely no indication of that up until now, but he did his best to keep the emotion from actually showing on his face.

Instead he simply smiled.

"Well, your own, natural flight is far better than what I provided, at least. It is heartening to see." He then flicked his tail a little, eyeing the hybrid somewhat thoughtfully. "What will you do now? Do you plan to remain here, for a time, or must you return to the... ahh, to your family? I do not mind the company, of course, but I also do not wish to keep you, and wind up getting you into trouble with them. Though you are free to visit me whenever you wish."

He still had not mentioned Envy actually being alive, and refrained from doing so again almost barely, chiding himself mentally to keep it quiet, for now. It wasn't that he thought Huckleberry might plan something--but he might let it slip, and then the family might wind up on guard--or even planning. "We could practice, perhaps; or simply talk, at times. Or if you wish to stay, now, I can help you to find a hidden place to rest."

@Huckleberry