Her mother’s had been a heart so easily swayed by the wicked mind, manipulated and deceived, and ultimately such naivety had been her greatest undoing. There had been a night, countless moons ago, before nights had blended into days and days then on into depressingly dark weeks; even before the very first rift had leaked strange doppelgangers into the regions of Helovia.
 
Beneath the sly grin of a milky moon, evil drew the Starry-Eyed from the sanctuary of her home and far, far into the north – a treason that she had barely days prior been warned against. The ghost, the impish white creature who guided their ill-fated journey shared not the same worry or concern for their welfare, and should the dappled have known better, she might have realised the blaring signs of a suicide mission; the signature disregard of a psychopath. Never the less, the young foolish pegasus so consumed with guilt and apprehension, could not bear to abandon her newest herd-sister. Upon the snow, the Basin’s only gateway, they met a fate so brutal, so deadly; the pale devil perished there, and the senseless grey was taken prisoner, tortured and rendered flightless forevermore.
 
It was a grim destiny that had haunted her even to the grave.
 
The soft-hearted filly with the patchwork coat - black, white and sprayed beneath in gold – was none the wiser, oblivious, and without any grudge to conserve (no concern better than a deep loathe of snow), she could barely contain the buzz of excitement as it engulfed her core, her mind; spewed effervescent gold through each marvellous vein. Her composure (though brittle it was), began to crack, and it seemed the joy stirring through her was felt mutually across the small crowd. Lochan burst to life, cavorting away so suddenly that the tentative kitsune (who had been watching guardedly) fled backwards, finding shelter by the pointed pale hock of her towering sister. Emerald eyes grazed the approach of the other cerndyr’s narrow maw as it brushed a far fetlock, and Hanna’s small, unsure whine pierced the air. Though considerably more reserved then each of the hoofed beings around them, both the little white canine and her eight legged sibling overhead, could scarcely resist the brilliant energy circling through their minds.
 
Ashamin, clearly pleased with her decision, spoke then and in the same breath stepped nearer through the haze of shadow upon them. Zahra giggled brightly, a sound quite overflowing with nervousness, and allowed the stallion to guide her forward – grinning childishly, until she realised the future of their lovely web den. She listened vaguely as he voiced his thoughts about her as an apprentice – the students of her craft, weaving, he divulged soon after, and though her ears fixed firmly to each word he offered, the girl’s eyes began to drift away. His voice became something like an echo, rolling and dulling beneath the bars of the old timber bars above them as the magic began to boil again through her blood. All at once, a dozen threads or more began to unravel and unwind; and down swung the tiny bark spider from the chaos to hide within her mane. Tightly woven sheets of shimmering silver-white began to form, to fold, and fall upon the soil – three perhaps four, at least half the length she was. Zahra could not bear to leave the glorious material spun by her sister and soon the forest looked bare, like the drapes had not been there in the first place.
 
“I can’t just leave them,” she explained, turning to Ashamin with an apologetic glint in her pale eyes. Hanna slipped from her cover below the young mare’s hindquarters, and seized one ream between her teeth. “Will you help drape them over my back?” she asked quickly, reaching already to lift the first from the ground. As each came to rest upon her, snug against the ill-fitting silver collar, she lifted and closed useless feathered wings, to secure them in place. 

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Note: We can move on to the Basin next post if you want!?