Trick squinted after the ghost as it stared, and then left. He wanted nothing more than to burn it into ashes, but... it escaped. And he was tethered to the ground by the weeping, crippled human, discovering that he did not, in fact, want to pull away from her needy grasp. He found it to be, ah, tolerable, that the human came to him for protection. In fact, he should have expected this would happen before too long. Despite the potential he saw in her, she was yet a weak and crippled thing.
He thought back to when he had first seen her- he would have been disgusted to picture her cowering, bent around his hoof. And yet, he felt no such thing. He felt- he felt in a way that he wondered if perhaps his father felt when a filly ran to him after having been frightened by the Ekans, back on the plains.
His flared emotions and heightened senses from the adrenaline began to wane as the moment passed. The human's wailing had melted into mute crying, with the occasional shuddering breath to punctuate her suffering.
So absorbed was the Ponyta in his thoughts, that the Cottonee managed to sneak up on him. The human's legs, and thus by extension now the cotton fairy, were both positioned somewhat beneath his belly. He remained standing still for the moment, lost in his own musings, waiting with an unexpected patience for the human to recover, though he offered her no comfort beyond his continued presence.
Cynth couldn't shake the dancing flames from her vision. Even with her eyes closed, they were there. Swirling, burning. There was screaming in the background of her... vision? memory? that she recognized as her own voice. And then, in the far distance- a male voice? She didn't recognize it, and yet it was familiar to her. Her heart... ached... ached to see the face that the voice came from. Hazel eyes, just like hers, wet with unshed tears--
She gasped when something pressed against her calf, bringing her with a start back into the present, away from the flames and her... whoever it was that she was half-remembering. Trick did not respond to the gasp, assuming it was just another harsh breath that attended her crying.
The young woman's eyes opened gradually, and settled on the dirty cloud-like creature that had joined her. She stared for a moment, then blinked slowly. Her eyes were red from crying, as was much of her face, though the flush was beginning to fade. She took in a deep, shuddering breath and tried to ignore the slightly throbbing of the space behind her eyes.
As the thing made its noise, Trick's attention was finally and suddenly drawn- his head whipped around on his neck and he bared his teeth at the thing; he stepped out of Cynth's now-loosened grasp to turn around and face the thing head on.
//Go away.// He commanded with a snort.
Cynth rubbed her eyes with her hand, clearing the last of the tears from them and then offered an ever-so-slight smile at the creature that had brought her out of her nightmare. She hadn't understood, of course, what Trick had said to the fluff- nor had it even really registered that he had said anything at all- so she couldn't deny his words and neither did she think to properly thank the plant, as she was still somewhat in a fog, but she did at least manage to give it a smile.
She glanced around to locate her dropped things. Luckily, they all seemed to still be there, laying abandoned on the path. She crawled toward them and gathered them back up, putting the bag over her head to hang securely across her body and then picking up the crutch.
Shakily, she stood up.
(If Cottonee stays and interacts more, then Cynth and Trick will stay longer. If Cottonee leaves them, then you can assume they'll get moving once again down the path.)