The stallion was more subtle. She found him, close to the mare. There was a wall around his dream, a barrier she’d never encountered before. Faint spots of strong feelings burst on the surface—he was moving to a good/bad place. Hope and fright blended together in a fractal swirl. She experimentally spread herself over it, feeling it shift under her. The surface changed—it was easiest to call it color, although it wasn’t—in a swirling ripple, darkening where she touched. She felt it falter, and then vanish like a soap bubble, leaving her grasping nothing.