She was spared one short moment of fleeting triumph as the scaly beast roars and thrashes with sand in its eyes. Then the spiny tail came flying towards her and like a deer in headlights she simply watched, in her heart and head knowing that there was no blocking that. With almost resigned acceptance she felt the thickly muscled appendage smack into her side and fling her, almost elegantly, into the air. She squealed as earth and sky and fighting bodies revolved around her, and with a small thud the pale child landed on the ground. Air rushed from her lungs in a soft wheeze of breath and black muck, a fragile heart flickered and nearly stopped from the force of the impact...

... and resumed its steadfast beat, just as the ribcage once again expanded to force in another lifesaving breath of salty air.

It was only then that the pain really hit her. For such a young foal she was tough and resilient indeed, but this was too much even for her. As shock worked its way throughout her system the gasps for breath turned into sobs, she tried to move and get on her feet but the pain in her entire body, and particularly in the right front leg, was such that she screamed and fell back down to the ground.

She couldn't move. It hurt so bad and all around her were trampling feet, shoving bodies and strangers, strangers, unfamiliar faces. It was a really bad place to have landed, still within reach of the glittering monsters hungry jaws and completely in the way of anyone trying to reach it and fight. Erthë had been scared before but never like this. This terror was pure, blinding, the kind that made her scream and squirm where she lay, desperately attempting to shuffle off, away to a place where no one would step on her wings or trample the tail or puncture the shimmering blue-white coat with horn and tail and gleaming, hungry teeth.

Then, from what seemed as nowhere, a shadow appeared before her. It was tall and loomed over her, between her own fearful self and the rampaging beast. Her bleeding heart skipped a beat as she thought it to be the mother, but after blinking again Erthë found that it was not. It was Evaneska, the head-winged mare she had talked to before, the one from the Rift! And she wasn't alone; another mare, small and slender and frail looking, beautiful but battered and bruised, looked down at her and inquired about her state.

"F-fine" Erthë lied, forcing a smile. "Healer... not necessary..." But it was false bravery, because she probably did need one. Something was definitely off with her leg and her left side was one giant bruise that pounded and ached - if she hadn't fractured something it wasn't for lack of risk, but rather a blessing thanks to her soft bones.

But then, just as she made another attempt to stand, dark wings descended and enveloped her, casing her in warm, fragrant darkness. The safe and comfortable darkness only a mother could provide.

The words that reached her ears were soothing, warming, comforting. They stilled her tears and settled her frantic heart, and Erthë felt so strengthened by the mere presence of the Blackbird that she couldn't help but protest.

"But mom, I can..!"

But the retort was swift, sharp, and left no room for argument. As the black pegasus turned towards the flickering god Erthë slumped back down to the ground, forced to obey. Still another mare came running, her strange words managing to get a suggestion of moving across - but there was no time for that, and Erthë couldn't stand anyway. She was forced to stay still where she was, protected by her mother and by strangers, unable to do anything but watch with unease in her heart as the battle kept raging around them.

Some small voice whispered of approaching change in her heart, but she didn't have time to listen.