She lay in the oasis, exhausted from all manner of activities. From simply being in this herd- that was exhausting enough. She could no longer handle the confinement, she needed to be calmed down, to be talked down, or else she was going to explode. She felt every moment as if she was on the edge of a cliff, waiting to jump. But this time her wings would fail her and the frostfall wind would cut like knives. This time she wouldn't bank up.

Dark thoughts plagued her, and her concerned companion was of no help. Stop, the falcon told her repetitively. As if the simple word would cease the confusion and inner conflict, as if it was all that simple. She lashed out with raging reprimands and violent neighs- pushed herself up from the earth and threw herself against the bases of wild, twisting trees in the desert's oasis. Her wings beat the cold and unforgiving earth relentlessly, dusted up dry frost that had permeated the land of the God of the Sun in his absence. Outcasted now, he could not protect the Dragon's Throat. No one could.

The young mare found herself pacing, found her dark, peacock eyes seeking a solution within sight. But there was none- in the freezing frostfall night there was nothing but blackness. She felt the cold and the unforgiving winds permeate the curls of her thick coat, she felt chills fall down to the bone. She wanted to hide and die somewhere if she could not be free.

Her body shifted in and out of existence, invisible one moment and there the next, standing out a bright green despite the chestnut coat covering her form. She blended into the night's blackness and resisted her fall to the earth, trying not to let the wings fold completely and the body collapse from the exhaustion that haunted her step from a lack of sleep. But nothing could be resisted forever. Her knees hit the shadow of a tree as it landed on the earth and she flitted back into existence, an image of a beautiful mare splayed across the earth with outspread wings curled like a nest. The apology was clear, the desire for comfort prevalent. Wordlessly, her falcon settled into the crook of her wings and slept as her master watched the skies and hoped for salvation.