[It's all of it. It's his red eyes, his blood-crusted face, the lack of blood on his lips, the stench... and it is Amos' spell still haunting, clinging, wormed into her mind to remind her that anyone... anyone with magic could just make her live the horrors she'd spent her whole life trying to avoid.
She does not empty the contents of her first stomach cleanly. It's a messy, wretched affair, noisy and cyclical. Each time she thinks it might be done something else sets her off- the scent of blood or the scent of her own vomit, and she's gagging again, first expelling chunks of berry, nut, and flower petal and then mouthfuls of stomach acid. When she has none of that left it's just dry, her throat burning, her entire body seizing with the effort to try and expel something else, each expulsion accompanied by a trembling hitch of her tail.
But as sick as she feels, her previous meals have moved through her mid-track and into her second stomach, and she has no physical capacity to vomit up those contents. She's left sweating and shivering from the exertion, panting heavily and pressing her forehead against the tree trunk as she struggles to think, to come up with some answer for it all. His eyes... his eyes had always been queer, that pale blue on black, it isn't the fact that they were red that was wrong, it was that they became red like he'd sucked the color of Amos' blood into his body in a way that stained the entire thing-]
Amos had... had a spell...
[And in her confusion, she simply answers him. Like she wasn't reeling, like she wasn't a minute away from shouts and accusations and the stab of betrayal sinking in-]
It made me... it reached into my mind for something...
[She can't say it. How could she say it, those humiliating, disgusting things. If it were to a friend, perhaps, but to a man who she'd just found out she did not know at all- ?]
Something sick...
[She tries to pull a makeshift flask from her sash, to get it open and drink to clear the vile taste from her mouth.]
I was helpless...
[In the vision. In reality. Helpless to stop the grooms from jeering, the stallion from mounting, Amos from taking advantage of her fear and-
Ah.
The berries from her meal had made the vomit between her front hooves red.]
no subject
She does not empty the contents of her first stomach cleanly. It's a messy, wretched affair, noisy and cyclical. Each time she thinks it might be done something else sets her off- the scent of blood or the scent of her own vomit, and she's gagging again, first expelling chunks of berry, nut, and flower petal and then mouthfuls of stomach acid. When she has none of that left it's just dry, her throat burning, her entire body seizing with the effort to try and expel something else, each expulsion accompanied by a trembling hitch of her tail.
But as sick as she feels, her previous meals have moved through her mid-track and into her second stomach, and she has no physical capacity to vomit up those contents. She's left sweating and shivering from the exertion, panting heavily and pressing her forehead against the tree trunk as she struggles to think, to come up with some answer for it all. His eyes... his eyes had always been queer, that pale blue on black, it isn't the fact that they were red that was wrong, it was that they became red like he'd sucked the color of Amos' blood into his body in a way that stained the entire thing-]
Amos had... had a spell...
[And in her confusion, she simply answers him. Like she wasn't reeling, like she wasn't a minute away from shouts and accusations and the stab of betrayal sinking in-]
It made me... it reached into my mind for something...
[She can't say it. How could she say it, those humiliating, disgusting things. If it were to a friend, perhaps, but to a man who she'd just found out she did not know at all- ?]
Something sick...
[She tries to pull a makeshift flask from her sash, to get it open and drink to clear the vile taste from her mouth.]
I was helpless...
[In the vision. In reality. Helpless to stop the grooms from jeering, the stallion from mounting, Amos from taking advantage of her fear and-
Ah.
The berries from her meal had made the vomit between her front hooves red.]