Aquilo settles his head onto the fine fabric of their saddlebags, readying himself to be claimed by the sands of time, long wavy and wispy strands of his pale mane splayed around like the halo of the sun upon the bright metallic barding of his Sire's and Dam's warriors. Each slow breath of his companion Peregrine, as he took the first watch of the evening, dark eyes searing over his prone form causes his lids to drag further and further down; relaxed and warm with the certainty that if something where to take place here and now as he slept then the Courser would handle it.

It was hard to tell time in the bowels of the dark Dungeon, yet the other set a strict schedule to their rests and slumbering patterns. Many days or at the very least sleeps, have past the pair by in their exploration and encounters. So many that Aquilo was beginning to wonder when he would ever breath the clean free surface air or feel the bright warm strike of sun upon his chilly Courser flesh. A hint of dream sun settles into his mind, wandering away as the frading image of Peregrine perched on his haunches as he cleans his barding and metal plating appears less often between tired blinks.

The royal has grown to find sleep easier and easier in these places, next to the other's body, where as before he had only slept within open extravagant chambers and the sheer curtains hanging from his pillared bedding fluttering between faint breezes. More so, alone, or with the backs of his guards at his chamber door or the soft clacking of maids stoking coals within the large opulent hearthside.

Awareness within the comforting blanket of sleep is slow and gradual, noises peeking in from the outside as it influenced the sun dappled foal hood memories and taste of lavish meals. Having been running in the tall drying greens and golden yellows of the fields surrounding their manor, the dark blip of a foal Peregrine at his side, dirt coating nearly every inch of the Coursers hair and form.

Voices, faint and whispering like the afterimagery of ghosts on a night's whipping winds, tickle at his lax velvety ears and not so gently yanks him from the depths of those dreamlands into the shadowy world; a full bodily twitch of his tail, head, and hindquarters set to violent quivering. What was that!?

"...Peregrine...?" He calls into the darkness for his companion, eyes crusted with sleep and throat hoarse; searching for the comfort of his person, his watcher, carer, protector, confidant, and friend.

It was not him that answered, it twas the voices that had dragged him near screaming from his bedside. Wispy, airy, and haunting tones that follow a meaningless and yet, terror enducing cadence.

"Hello...?" His voice grows an edge more frantic, teeth set on edge as he rolled his eyes and ears from side to side.

Aquilo was not a Courser with eyes born in the night, nevermind the talk and rumors that he may be made of starlight or crafted by a silversmith from the likeness thereof. Thusly, he could not penetrate the veil, terror foaming his pale silvery lips instead and he clambers from his sleeping pad onto the chilly stone side. This was nothing like the warm soft nights of his royal chambers and he had thought he had accepted this... before now, and yet he was beating back the shadows around him like a spooked foal.

Breaking the silence of the beyond, around his hitched breathes comes the soft coo of Peregrine, "Aquilo, calm. Woah, calm for me. Listen and follow my breathing." The silhouette of the dark brown Courser, the press of his warm wide chest as he moves up against his shivering form, it shocks his system.

He gasps, little hiccuping sounds that rise over the faint... consistent... whispering. Perhaps it was all just the rush of wind in the tunnels or the roar of water echoing from a deep cavern far, far away.

He was safe, he was safe! He screamed within the confines of his own mind, promises to himself that were spoken each time he trusted his flank to Peregrine, allowed him to watch him sleep.

"Peregrine, Peregrine, Peregrine." He repeats the name over and over, as if he were trying to comfort himself by simply saying it and having the Courser respond with a rumbling blip of noise. Aquilo presses up tight against Peregrine, humid and panicky air filling the space between them.

"Easy now, easy. I have you. That's it, take deep breaths for me." Peregrine nudges his bowed head, mingling their manes like the touch of cold dawn and retreating night. Aquilo's flesh equally as cold as his coloration, lathered lightly in foam sweats, as it mashed against the hot embrace of the bulkier Courser.

Focusing his attention solely to the rich tones of his companion, he began to relax once more, eyes scrunched tight and ears flicking, "...Thank you." Came his final reply, soft and as hoarse as his voice had been from the point of waking.

Thank you, his mind repeated over and over again, stuck in a loop even as he settles and peers up into Peregrine's glittering dark eyes.

Thank you, a sickly sweet voice drifted up from the mental depths, coated in an emotion he has never spoken aloud.