I see the smoke curling on the horizon long before the firelight dazzles my irises. It pulls me all the same, a moth attracted to any manner of flame, surely an omen I'm to die. Then again, so must we all.

Flutter by little moths of the world, the sun is not the god we think. We worship the harbinger of our doom, heralding our deaths, so bright and glorious. We're such stupid creatures.

I walk, one foot after the other, as I suppose I must. I tried two feet after the other once, but it was very tiring. At my side Öde follows, quiet in his contemplation. I've told him the tale of Oblivion's betrayal, once I learned he'd been fraternizing with other foals. "Don't let anyone in," I whispered to him, my teeth brushing the fuzz of his ears. "Even those you've known longest, even those who've saved you before, even those you'd call friend - they will turn on you just as Nato did, knife on head." I hope I scared the piss out of him; mother knows best.

"Trust only your blood. We are one and the same."

I smiled, looking down at my dark prince, and we pressed on.

A scream trumpeted our arrival and the entertainment proceeded to greet us. A painted filly, precious as could be, rushed in like a valiant soul to rescue the musical colt. I plodded forward just as the girl was breaking down into hysterics. I paused for a moment behind her, the finely curved shape of my head tilting so far to the left an owl might have mated with me.
Öde wheezed behind me, shying behind my legs, but his eyes pierced ever forward. He too is a moth, transfixed by the blaze and the sputtering little insects in its wake.

I smile, the jigsaw of my lips wriggling in excitement against my teeth. "Oh dear," I sigh, "what have we here little ones?" I jerk my head back around straight, leaning forward so that my muzzle is near the filly.
The heat washes over me, a subtle sweat breaking out on my coat, the temperature having risen with every stride we took to come here. I can feel the ash settle in my lungs as I breathe, but I revel in it.
"You're doing it wrong sweetling," I croon, moving to place my left forelimb against her side. "The fire is that way," I finish with a coarse whisper, forcefully shoving my leg against the girl in an attempt to push her back in the grasses.