Eventide is softly casting o'er the earth a magic spell,

And a love-song, everlasting, on the night wind seems to swell.

She joined in with the laughter, her joy over the reunion overtaking the worry like light staved off darkness. Her mind was flexible, easily able to keep up with the verbal somersaults and her amusement sprung from understanding, a grasping of the essentials.

"I won't tell" she promised. "It would only make them upset to realize, wouldn't it. You're wrong though, as I'm the only one who really knows."

Erthë grinned as she relished the warmth of the Diviner's embrace. Whether intended or not, heartfelt or dutiful did not matter to her - what mattered was what she felt. Would the Lord of Fire and Light truly employ someone to convey his messages who did not possess elements of both natures? Maren might think herself cold and callous, jaded from the experience called wisdom, but the child only saw the warm smile and the light of her eyes and cared about nothing else.

What she did care about was the wellbeing of this mare. Their connection was loose at best, thin threads of recognition and mutual interest guiding them back to the other's presence from time to time. Acquainted, allied over the memory of a precious person - it was more than enough, because Erthë's heart was indeed still red and bleeding, her passions burning fierce and bright and eagerly enveloped everyone in its light. Everyone she met was a friend, because for all she had seen her soul had not yet been tainted by treachery or evil. For all that she was intelligent and precocious the girl was also frighteningly naive at times, innocent in a way that let her care for even those she didn't really know.

As Maren explained about the pact with the Earth God, the pale little hybrid frowned and shook her head in consternation.

"Why would he make you go through that? It doesn't seem very nice, what's the point of making you stumble around in the dark? I thought he was the nicest of the gods, but now I don't know."  

Biting her lip she tried to understand this seemingly irrational demand, her relief at the condition not being permanent shoved to the side as curious annoyance took over.

"It's good that you didn't get hurt somehow though" she added.

As the tigress asked questions of her own however, the filly actually laughed.

"Which one?" she asked, grinning. "Out of four battles I escaped unharmed from only one. The Bear was gentle compared to the two last ones. That scaly monster beast whacked me with the tail so that this leg - uh, the left front one" she added quickly, realizing that Maren wouldn't be able to see her lift the pale hoof from the ground, "and that big cat lady managed to smash my other front leg so thoroughly that not even the healers can fix it. I've been touched by the magic of three gods by now, but nothing has been of any help."

Putting the feet back down and shifting gingerly, the gleaming filly shifted her wings in a slight shrug and grimaced, yet again forgetting the predicament her company was in.

"From what I heard miss Eva say I have to ask a god for healing directly... but I don't even know how to find them, and why would any of them bother with me? They must be really busy, don't you think?"

She shrugged again, matter-of-factly. Enough time had passed for Erthë to have become accustomed to her situation. While it in no way felt okay, she was at least able to talk about it without growing angry, sad or scared for what the future would look like.

Instead of lingering over her own ailments, she reached out to press a cold nose against the Diviner's striped shoulder, quiet sympathy guiding her as she tried to comfort the blinded mare.