Something in the tone of his response sent Meg bristling. Such indifference, such disregard. Didn’t this stallion understand what she and the others were fighting? These wraiths were enemies could not be fought, so the Sun God had said. Even getting close to one risked your own life and increased their numbers. This stallion would have to wise up if her intended to satay here in Helovia’s darkest hour. Annoyance flashed across her features, but the pain and grief so obvious ly held in the stallion’s voice and body language did wonders to calm her. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know, he is new to the land and does not yet understand. He’ll learn soon enough.

More than his tine disturbed her: “What struck me would make these wraiths you speak of into dust with a mere look.” he says, before fixing a mask of stony in difference. Megaera’s eyes narrowed as the studied the stallion she’d found. Surely it had been him that she’d heard screaming, but there didn’t appear to be any attacker nearby. What then, had happened to put those painful abrasions upon his shoulders. She saw now that there were similar marks on both sides, exactly where wings might sprout from, but it didn’t appear that they’d been ripped from him like the Oracle’s wing had been. What on earth could have “struck” him? As he looked down ,the mare followed his gaze to the two piles of flakey ash that littered the ground. Her ears snapped back to hug her nape and she let out an angry snort at the though she’d just had. Her own wing had been burned but she’d managed to beat out the fire before it consumed them whole. No way his could have burned so fast, burned off so neatly. It couldn’t have been that. Meg tried to convincer herself that it wasn’t possible for those to piles to have been wings only minutes before, but the thought couldn’t escape her mind. She moved her ears forward again, her face painted with concern, and what might pass for understanding, though she was still baffled by what had happened to her new companion.

She nearly smiled when he asked her why she would bother offering help; not so long ago she had been in the Threshold wondering the same thing when Africa and Gaucho had offered her a home and friendship. “I wouldn’t be here if a stranger had not once helped me. There’s no reason not to meet someone with kindness.” Meg said the words like she’d thought that way all her life, but really they were truths she was still coming to understand. “You’ll have to let me know, won’t you, if your origins or intentions bode ill for me or my home.” The sarcasm was well natured, and Meg smiled in earnest; as aggressive as the young thing sometimes was, this jovial humor was closer to her core. She listened as he stumbled through his introduction and concern showed again as grief seizes the stallion. How could his name cause him so much pain?

Megaera wasn’t often soft hearted, but between the empathy she felt for those injured by fire and the clear agony the beast was in, her warrior’s heart ached for him. She crossed the short distance to where the stallion sobbed, and stood along side him, careful not to brush his painful-looking shoulder. Stretching her neck, she placed her scarred muzzle under his chin and pushed gently upwards. “Shh…” she soothed as he tried to apologize. “Be at peace, friend. No use in apologizing when feelings demand to be felt.” she spoke softly, and w as careful not to use either of the names he had given. She pulled her head back to look at the taller steed, though she remained close at his side. “Helovia may be a bit worse for ware these days but come with me to the caves. My herd is there, and there you’ll be able to rest and heal. “

megaera
someday we may see a woman king, sword in hand
swing at some evil and bleed