Let's take a minute...to run over the hash which is racing doubtfully through my brain.

Hypothermia wouldn't be a problem, not when this kid is agreeably accepting help...which would make life easy on herself, on me. (That's a good thing, right?) Wrong!! Easy made it extremely difficult to justify abandonment in a few confidence building hours. Easy made this whelp friendly to not just me...but every ass within 100 yards. Cautious came with age and it certainly wasn't a foals strong suit.

Though Zahra's acceptance had been anticipated, I still found myself swallowing revulsion as the bony length of this frail skeleton buckles against me. Those gangly limbs scoot her tri-colored barrel closer until the swell of feather and quarter was pressed firmly against the speckled radiator that was my side and undercarriage. Gently, as hind cradling her precious fawn, I casually fold the top of my wing over said child and that little (dog) creature called, Bird. Effectively creating protection against the elements and providing a shield of warmth by physical contact. The irony of this circumstance took my mind back...a year ago. (Which wasn't really all that far in my past.) This handsome body had been no older than she, though it HAD been healthier.

Melancholy crystal dribbles over the breast of a lean cliff edge we'd taken shelter beneath. An impassible mountainscape looms above us; it's walls of granite are smooth by appearance at ground level. Yet, not as impassible as I might believe. Every so often, a mountain goat or hind would leap fearlessly onto our ledge. Cloven toes stretching to grapple, scattering bits of fragile flint. They would bound up and scale that wall, denying death, debunking our belief.

Like a dance their athletic bodies did trace an unseen path, tiny feet found footholds that only wisdom and practice could depict. Even the little ones had no problem jumping onto the precarious holds their parents use. A quiet quiver ran cold in my blood -- I tremble and turn a grim look to my shield and sword; burying this face into welcoming security. A heavy rustle glides across my spine, it pushes against these downy hairs and settles like a warm shadow. Momma shifts her chocolate eyes to mine, a rare smile, reassuring. The effect is instant, she soothes any fears or worry.

Never would I forget the feel of those long, soft pinions; darkening our world. Keeping me small, innocent. It wasn't far after that mother dearest taught me to fly -- [second best memory EVER!] and our midnight snuggling was put to an abrupt halt. Childhood is always short lived for youths born on the road. Emeralds shift uncomfortably to the roof of our hollow; purposely avoiding said filly. "I don't know...it's been doing this for months," truth. My chin lowers, frowning at the semitransparent bubble cluster that encircles the top of my neck and hangs in a neat, levitating circle, "Nothing makes it go away," nobody was more conscious of how annoying it could be than me, "after awhile it gets easier to ignore."

Said torrent visibly stretch's, wildly bending outward. It engulfs the youth quietly -- then retreats to plaster itself inches from my skin. These weary eyes had enough energy to roll. "Never mind it. What are..." I pause, callous eyes can't help but soften when they settle upon those sunken eyes. Wet fur, Wet plumage. The term 'stink' wasn't strong enough to describe how desperately we both needed a bath. "We are going to be stuck here for awhile...might as well try and get some rest."