The air felt dense, quiet - loaded with wet soil plus a sharp tang like burnt wire. Hex’s hooves barely whispered against the mossy trail while she shoved past the final curtain of old thorns. Ahead lay a broad, hollow field glowing faint under a pale green dusk that hugged the dirt itself. This was supposed to be the Festival of Whispers - just like the note said, fluttering in on air that felt cold and smelled strange. The message came outta nowhere, riding a breeze sharp with ice and something darker. Hex, always nosy, never one to back down from weird stuff, just had to come see. Yet when she looked around, really took it in, her fur bristled under the dim light. This wasn't a celebration she knew. Some folks had arrived earlier, spread out like odd gems on the creepy terrain. MoonFlower lingered alone by a twisted bare tree, her light grey coat standing out in the low glow, head cocked like she caught whispers no one else did. Usually loud, Atlas kept quiet now - his silvery-blue hide glinting softly while he walked tight loops, grumbling to himself, putting on a show without saying much. Raylee, dappled in shifting shades of dark silver and pearly streaks, flicked her ears fast, eyes jumping around, equal parts fascinated and ready to bolt. Severyn drifted through the group, her snowy fur glowing faintly, touching muzzles with the shaky ones - kindness flickering amid oddity. Meanwhile, Io held ground near the middle, sunlight brushing her golden hide, posture tight, like she expected trouble next. Next came folks who made Hex uneasy. North stood near a drooping willow, her dark coat fading into shade, staring without blinking - cold, sharp focus in her gaze. From far off, you could still see that edge in her eyes, hinting at selfish gain no matter what went down. Stargazer rested by a sagging limb, fur glinting oddly under dim light, colors shifting like oil on water. A crooked grin tugged one side of her mouth. As if she’d caught every dirty truth floating around and got a kick out of them. Then farther ahead, Hex saw Salem - his reddish-blue fur stood out like a cozy glow. The horse stepped forward calm-like, eyes soft as they scanned around, weariness you could nearly feel in the air. Yet it wasn’t merely the horses that put Hex on edge - rather, the whole vibe felt off. No cheerful tunes played, just a dull droning sound coming up from below ground, shifting now and then like something breathing, slow on purpose. Rough marks covered the scarce trees poking out of the field, their bark coated in thick, shiny goop you could smell before getting near. In place of torches or fires, strange mushrooms throbbed here and there, giving off flickering light so pale it warped everything, twisting shapes into lopsided monsters along the grass. Not one booth sold snacks, no contests to test luck or aim, none of those bright ribbons everyone hangs everywhere. Simply... a quiet hush waiting for what comes next. Hex shivered, a chill crawling up her back. "The Festival of Whispers," she whispered, the words suddenly sounding darker than before. Curious by instinct, almost reckless at times, yet her urges always pushed her toward moments that stretched what she could handle. Right then? It sure seemed like another one. What do you do now? That thought kept spinning around in her head. Run away? Nah, that wasn't Hex. Her grit ran just as deep as her need to figure things out. Figuring it out - that’s what she had to do. She moved ahead slowly - step after step - drifting further into the open field. The buzzing grew louder, like a weight pressing inside her ears. MoonFlower twitched, letting out a quiet sound, almost hearing what wasn't really there. Hex glanced toward North, frozen in place, face blank but alert, waiting without blinking. Who or what would pull someone like her into this kind of moment? Hex figured Salem was the best one to talk to. Because he’s kind, he’d probably give an honest answer - even if it didn’t make much sense. When she got close, Salem was already deep in conversation with Severyn. They stood close together, both looking worried. “Salem, Severyn,” Hex greeted, her voice a low contralto. “What is… all this? Do either of you know what we’re meant to be doing?” Salem turned to her, his rich blue eyes wide with confusion. “Hex. I wish I did. I received the same invitation, vague as it was. I thought perhaps it was a gathering for… well, for something good. But I confess, this is not what I anticipated.” He gestured with a hoof at the eerie fungi. “I’ve tried to see the beauty, the uniqueness, but it feels… wrong.” Severyn nodded, her gentle eyes clouded with worry. “There are no games, no songs, no food. Just… waiting. And those whispers.” She lowered her voice. “Can you hear them?” Hex stayed quiet, ears tuned. Not past the buzzing - inside it, maybe, there was a whisper, soft and deep, like far-off words tangled together, never quite clear. Grabbing at smoke with bare hands - that’s how close it felt. “Maybe,” she said, tightness creeping up her gut. “Any idea what those whispers mean?” Salem shook his head. “I can’t make sense of them. They seem to ebb and flow, sometimes sounding like pleas, sometimes like warnings.” He glanced towards North, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes. “North seems quite at home, doesn’t she?” Hex looked where he did. North stayed still, yet tilted her head just a bit, ears twitching like she caught every quiet word. A cold rush hit Hex then. She wasn’t lost - she was listening, tuned in sharp. Hex followed her gut, figuring Stargazer might have clues. Maybe the trickster knew something - just not willing to spill it outright. She dodged a clump of glowing mushrooms thumping like a sick heartbeat; their flash caught Atlas mid-stomp, already grumbling deep in his throat. "Not exactly a party," he snorted, voice cracking through the quiet. "No soft fabrics, no tasty greens… seriously, this dirt’s trashing my feet!". Stargazer only laughed - just a faint scrape, like paper dragged on pavement. "Oh, Hex? Pulled in again by that whisper from beyond, huh?" She spoke light, almost humming, each word floating slowly through air. “You know what this thing is, right?” That’s how Hex pushed it - straight to the point. People saw her courage but called it harshness. Stargazer slipped off the branch, landing quiet on the dirt. Her sharp amber eyes sparkled with a sneaky look. “Maybe I know. But knowing ain't the same as getting it.” She moved around Hex, slow and smooth, her dark-blue coat swallowing flickers of odd glow. “A few festivals cheer birth. Others mark crops coming in. So what’s this one really about, huh, Hex?” Hex felt a prickle of irritation. “If you’re not going to be helpful, then don’t bother.” Stargazer just grinned - slow, sharp, kinda hungry-looking. "Sure I am," she said. “Ponder this, Hex: why’d they call on you? Or any of us, really? Also… what’s a whisper actually telling?” She moved closer, lowering her voice like it was part of some show. “It's about missing pieces,” she whispered. “What ain’t present - that’s where truth hides.” Then tapped her with her snout, which didn’t feel friendly so much as shoving her toward something unknown - and strolled away, acting like she aimed for Io, who was cautiously checking out one of those glowing mushrooms. Hex couldn't shake Stargazer's strange warning - or the eerie vibe that came with it. Empty. Everything felt empty - no laughter, no cheer, no comfort. No real direction either. Still, she wondered… Why all this emptiness? She looked over at Io, that fearless golden horse. The mare stood there scraping the dirt near a giant glowing mushroom, ears up, boldness beating fear. Outta nowhere, Io made a soft noise - tight, quick - then jerked back, tossing her mane hard. Seems whatever she sniffed out tasted or smelled real bad. Hex was drawn to the middle of the field - where the buzzing peaked and glowing mushrooms formed a lopsided ring. On she went, faster now, thoughts spinning wild. Not just some odd celebration… more like a setup. Who’s supposed to show up there? And what kind of scene were they meant to play out? When she got close to the glowing ring, the murmurs turned sharp - suddenly easier to make out, yet just as unsettling. Not actual speech, but pieces of feeling, raw and jumbled. Dread. Yearning. Hopelessness. Then, underneath it all, a cold, steady beat... like something feeding. Hex spotted Raylee - she’d wandered close to the glowing ring, drawn by what she saw. The horse, a shimmering mix of pale and dark streaks with pale specks, shook slightly, ears back, eyes wet. A soft cry slipped out, tense and shaky. "It's... eating," Raylee stammered, breath thin. Not loud, almost lost. "Those murmurs? They belong to it. So do those gut twists. It thrives on doubt. On fear." Hex sensed a chill grip her heart. Not joy - just emptiness instead. No celebration meant confusion, then fear creeping in. That’s how it started. Someone had planned this unease on purpose. That’s when she spotted North. Inside the ring of mushrooms, the dark horse stood still - her lips curled into a quiet, creepy smile. Instead of staring at the creature, she focused on the spinning force in the middle, where shadows twisted like something alive. Not scared one bit - more like proud. Satisfied. Hex thought back to what North had said - she’s got dark intentions, deadly focused. Anyone who stands in her path? Risking trouble. She ain’t just watching. Nope - deep into it. On impulse, Hex shoved ahead of Raylee, brushing off the little mare’s nervous sounds, then moved into the throbbing ring. Right away, the buzzing grew stronger, shaking from her hooves upward - through her legs, deep into her skeleton. The murmurs got sharper now, a mess of raw feelings, every one a stab of grief, a spark of annoyance, or a wave of uncertainty. Her determination started to slip as old doubts popped up without warning. That's what it fed on. “What is this, North?” Hex demanded, her voice firm despite the unsettling assault on her senses. “What do you stand to gain from this… feeding?” North turned slowly, her grin widening. “Ah, Hex. Always so eager to rush into where you don’t belong.” Her voice was a low purr, devoid of the usual tension she carried. “This isn’t a festival of whispers, little Hex. It’s a Feast of Whispers. And no, it’s not for me.” She gestured with a hoof towards the churning center. “It’s for it.” The dark blur in the middle tightened up, shaping into something vague - bigger than a horse, blacker than midnight. It throbbed with stolen feelings, like an open hole filled with fear and doubt. “This entity,” North continued, a strange reverence in her tone, “it thrives on… emotional energy. Particularly the uncomfortable kind. Confusion. Fear. Despair. And what better way to harvest that than to invite a mixed bag of personalities to a ‘festival’ of unknown purpose?” She laughed, a low, guttural sound devoid of humor. “The drama queen’s frustration, the caring one’s helplessness, the curious one’s rising panic… it’s all delicious fodder.” Hex’s thoughts spun out of control. Not only was this thing dangerous - it was attacking what they truly were. Instead of ending lives, it fed on who they were inside. Worse yet, North - the harsh female horse - was helping it on purpose. “You got us into this mess," Hex snapped, anger flaring fast. North shrugged, an almost elegant movement. “I merely extended the invitations. The mechanism was already in place. I simply… facilitated. And in return, I receive… certain advantages. Power. Influence. And the exquisite satisfaction of watching others squirm.” Her eyes gleamed with malice. Hex looked left then right. Severyn kept talking to Raylee, yet her skin seemed washed out, tight. Salem stayed upright - still - but his eyes carried weight, heavy with feeling the thing could taste. Atlas had pulled head to chest, muttering how nothing made sense anymore. Io moved back step by step; boldness gone, swapped for silence. Stargazer, usually so sly, seemed truly off-balance - yet stayed put, maybe drawn in by how massive the lie had become. MoonFlower didn’t move a muscle, nearly fading into the shadows, her quietness speaking louder than words. Hex stayed just that - pure Hex. Quick to act, hard to budge. On top of it all, burning mad right now. “You won’t slip outta this," she snapped, moving deeper into the ring, voices now hammering her harder than before. A flash of uncertainty hit - what could just one mare really do against something like that plus someone helping it on purpose? - yet she shoved it aside, using it instead to fire up her resistance. “Oh, but I already have,” North countered, her grin unwavering. “Look around, Hex. They are all caught. Draining, slowly but surely. And you, little inquisitive one, you’re just making yourself a bigger meal.” Hex looked past the scare, zeroing in on the buzz - the core of what gave the thing its strength. From the mushrooms came that sound, along with odd rough carvings slashed into nearby trunks, both pulsing dimly like they shared one hidden spark. No ordinary event this - more like an old act repeated with intent. Break the routine. That idea hit her, sudden and bright. Yet what then? She stared at the nearest mushroom - fat, lumpy, throbbing with shadowy power. Since the force might start there, maybe severing it could dull the strength. Risky? Sure. Rash? Definitely. Yet Hex always followed gut moves instead. With a snort that felt like rebellion, Hex lunged at the closest patch of mushrooms. North blinked hard - her calm breaking apart. "Idiot!" she yelled, yet Hex didn’t slow down one bit. Hex kicked up, her front legs slamming down hard. The mushrooms exploded with a gross popping sound, spewing thick black goop that splattered across her coat. Then came a rush of pure dread - like getting punched in the chest - but she stayed put, refusing to back off. The buzzing wavered suddenly, twisting into a harsh shriek that ripped through the field. The thing in the middle twisted, its shape briefly falling to pieces - like mist drifting sideways. "She's messing things up!" Stargazer snapped, her words slicing through the noise. Even she could see how serious Hex’s move really was. Hex moved fast - no pause, no second thought. Kicking through the thick growth, she ripped into the glowing mushrooms without slowing down. Waves of dark feeling slammed into her, trying to shake her focus. Still, she pushed ahead, fighting past the pressure in her head. Every chunk torn free made the field shudder, disrupting the low drone bit by bit. The hidden voices cracked, losing their grip. Some horses started moving. Raylee saw Hex fighting back, made a nervous sound, then suddenly found boldness in her curiosity. Io thought about how brave she’d been before, gave a sharp snort instead of waiting, took off toward more mushrooms, crushed one hard with her hoof. Atlas - jolted awake by the noise, figuring doing nothing might hurt worse - lurched ahead, scrambled at the dirt, ripped apart the base of a tiny mushroom patch. North growled - deep, sharp, like thunder close by. "It's already happening!" she snapped while rushing at Hex, feet slamming dirt fast, dead set on guarding what she’d built from shadows. Hex spotted her approach, yet stayed still. This was her move from the start - no backing out now. When North charged forward, Hex spun aside, using North’s own speed to send her stumbling beyond. A sharp breath shot out as Hex slammed her foot into the biggest glowing fungus patch, right near the core of the thing. The blast wasn't silent. Fungi burst with a squelching crack, yet a harsh glow - thick and green - flooded the field. The drone vanished; now, only sharp stillness remained. Once Hex’s sight came back, the meadow looked different. Instead of glowing, the mushrooms had dried up, turned black. On the trees, odd signs vanished - just wounded wood remained. That main presence? It disappeared as well, though cold still hung around, along with a sour hint in the air. North stayed flat on the soil, trying hard to rise, her stare full of helpless anger. Yet she sounded weak now, like her strength had faded; her tone rang empty. "You... wrecked it all!" she hissed instead. The others got up, gasping for air, their coats soaked in weird goo - yet their minds felt sharper, fear fading. Salem hurried toward Severyn and Raylee, pulling them close. Io loomed above a broken patch of fungus, standing tall like she’d won something. MoonFlower didn’t move, though her face softened slightly, hinting at quiet release. Stargazer kept her gaze on Hex, eyes glowing faintly with reluctant approval. Hex was wiped out, totally spent - yet suddenly lighter, like a weight had cracked open. The event’s end hit hard. Dark rituals? Shut down fast. Yet when real dusk fell, staining the sky with dull purple and gray, Hex kept hearing those hushed voices, that creature's craving. The quiet felt off - more eerie than calm. The celebration had ended, still the truth about its nature, plus the hidden malice driving it, stuck around. North wouldn't let go of that image, just like the ghostly jaws of the being would stay burned in mind. The field looked like any ordinary field, yet something about it seemed off - altered for good. Hex understood deep down, clear as ice water, that certain celebrations don't die when they’re done. Instead, they doze, biding time until moments align, along with people who don’t know what’s coming, sparking them back to life. Right at this moment, the Festival of Whispers had gone quiet. Yet Hex sensed quiet might speak softly on its own, hinting at coming back. While she stayed ready to hear.