The massive god had spoken to Einarr, and Meg had thought to stand back until their conference was over. She had been calm, confident that her task was done, and merely waited for the black warrior to finish so they could make the trip back to the Throat. The mare had thought herself so removed from the situation that when the god announced his course, Meg had momentarily missed the fact that she had somehow been rolled up into this tale to a far greater degree than she could have expected. She had protested, but that initial conviction had been short lived when she had realized the possible consequences of her denial. Her acquiescence however, did not make this course of action any easier in her mind.

The God of Earth must be mentally deficient.

Surely anyone who knew Meg could see what a mistake this was. She was a soldier, a Warrior of the Sun, not a wetnurse! Surely there were others better suited, others who it would not harm the security of the herd to incapacitate… For how could she patrol, how could she fight, how could she protect her herd with a delicate child attached at her hip? She was a warrior, god damn it!

Meg didn’t linger in the veins longer that it took her initial shock to dissolve. When it did dissipate, a riot of emotions churned within the bay mare. She had latched onto the anger, the indignation, for that was by far the most comfortable for her. After the god had finished his work, Megaera had paused only long enough to glare at Einarr before pivoting on her heels and rocketing herself into the air and back towards the Throat. The movement, the action, should have made her feel better, but each pull of muscle and sinew made the changes on her body so much more apparent. The Earth God’s Magic had gripped her so suddenly, forcing her body through changes that should have taken months and condensing them into a few seconds. She ached, but the dull pain radiated from the inside rather than a bruise to the surface. And it all felt to foreign to her, so wrong… so terrifying.

She knew how to be angry but she didn’t know how to be afraid. She sped through the air, fuming and trying desperately to shove away the fears she didn’t understand. Dark eyes kept their focus on their destination, she did not look to see if Einarr followed, and part of her hoped that he didn’t. She would not, could not show herself to be afraid, especially not in front of one of the massive fighters she strove so hard to prove herself the equal of. As much as she liked the rest of her herdmates, it was only ever the warrior class that had won the greatest worth in her eyes. If she could not walk among them she had no wish to walk at all.

She crossed over the gap of ocean and over the dunes and came down upon the blistering sands at the edge of the oasis. Gwaihir was already waiting for her there having hopped and flitted away from his watcher the moment he had felt his bonded’s distress. “S…ss…scared?” She heard his voice in her own mind, solidifying for the first time into a word instead of a stream of disjointed feelings. From anyone else, Meg would have balked at the word, would have raged and yelled to hide that truth, but she felt no need to hide from the eaglet who was already wiser than his age allowed. Meg looked at him, perched on an overturned palm at the edge of the trees, and nodded slowly. Gaiwhir couldn’t fly yet, not really, but at her nod was able to flap clumsily enough to span the few feet and come to rest on her shoulders. With his steadying support, Meg made her way through the oasis to find Mordecai. The filly was with the healers, as Megaera had hoped, but when they came into view, the bay halted. She stood stoic, staring at the tiny little filly that was at the root of all this uproar, frozen by uncertainty.

How could they ask this of her?

What if she failed?


”Megaera's speech.”
"Gwaihir's speech."
Notes: Oh Meg <3 Anger’s keeping the panic at bay, prepare for it to be released in 3…2…….
Tags: @[Einarr] @[Mordecai] (and @[Alija] if you want to pop in for the handover)