Such a bubble of energy these mares created… I stood in silence for the most part, tilting my head only to examine snake belonging to Aurelia. A companion…? One ear swiveled back, I peered at the creature from afar: living and breathing, it appeared. Then it belonged to her? Intriguing; this, too, I stored away for further contemplation. Perhaps in Helovia more creatures than dragons served the function dragons had served in Isilme. It was not so far a conclusion to draw.

     When Aurelia’s attention turned to me, I managed only to stare back in mild bemusement. Pretty..? I could not admit to receiving that compliment before, but with a snort of mild laughter, I accepted it. ”Thank you.” She had a good nature about her, as the others did – warm, kind.

     To the matter of the wall: I half expected to see anger in Kahlua’s eyes, but she brushed all criticism away with a light, cheerful laughter. And she had made it… I blinked back, confused, unsure of what to say. These creatures operated far beyond my depth – thought on another plane, entirely. I could but nod when she mentioned the others, filing their names away and supposing I might then, some day, find other stallions in the herd. Good fortune or not… I could hardly decide. I began to regret ever approaching these mares. What had I to add to their thoughts? Certainly nothing very happy…

     I glanced up, thankful, when Alysanne spoke. Something about baby birds – I craned my head as she did, assuming permission to spy on the small bundle of tufted feathers there, between her wings – a bird! Of course, another companion. Did they come in all shapes, then? ”Very little,” I admitted, with a glance at the others. Likely they were better versed in companion care than I, but I supposed I owed some aid, so long as I remained present. Alysanne may have shrugged off my thanks, but I still felt a debt of gratitude, if nothing else, to those who had been present on the day of my arrival.

     ”They are made with sticks most commonly, yes?” I inquired. ”Sticks and… feathers, perhaps, for softness.” I cast a glance at her own wings, sudden realization forming. ”You don’t…?” But of course pegasi didn’t build nests – what trees would hold them? I bit off the foolish question at the last moment, glancing away as if distracted. Clearing my throat, I added, a little embarrassed, ”I… would certainly help you to look. Perhaps we could first find a nest to use as a model.”