The herd was growing restless and awake. Fina continued to fly overhead, thankfully silent in her glide -- gaze harboring no kind thought toward the slithering creature below. Creamy predator beak drifted apart, sampling air and trying to gather a taste for what it was that overtook shadows and moved like the bodies of many serpents. Not a fur creature, not reptile. Magic?

I came soaring overhead, there were already members of the herd gazing curiously out of their hollows. Stirred by a sensitivity to trouble and the unknown, I caught sight of one that the creature had nearly caught up with. She was fanatically stepping aside, retreating, but the shirking beast seemed to be keen on a chase. I soared over, gazing down from this aloft position; Fina came flying up as well drawing near my right.

The mare was bleating, nervous notes making her voice high pitched and stained. I listened but gave no orders, instead my attention was drawn to the rising thing. There was no time to gather a healer.

It was no longer entirely on the ground, instead it seemed to be rearing up. Bundling down upon dark looking flesh. A plant? I thought frantically, and Fina nodded plainly. From our vantage point I caught sight of the thing rising fast toward the folk on the ground, “Move away!” ebony lips opened into a roar; those women couldn’t just stand by!

‘Fina!’ Being part of a soul bond had one specific benefit. She already knew my thoughts, my desires; and could act upon them without further orders that would waste precious time. We were both soldiers through and through.

Our Praetor came from the undergrowth, bellowing a warning. Fina dived forward, toward earth and the position of the plant like monster that had suddenly been given life. She dipped toward the dry grass directly ahead of the beast and between our family. Flame tipped wings blazed ever brighter, their fire a furnace that caught the dehydrated strands aflame. A blaze rose in a line, the breeze fanning its swelter toward the beast. She turned tightly, attempting to circle the thing and place a barrier around it. The ground burned, turning black.

Would fire wound it? Could it even be wounded?

Bellowing overhead I turned to the honeyed mare, the one who wasn't a soldier and who didn't have wings by which to escape, "Evacuate the mares and young ones, take them to the ocean on the far side of this valley!" the cry is an order that offers no argument or quarter. I would not chance a loss tonight.

Still warm from the sun
upside down beside the ocean