My thoughts are the cold kind,
I've got storm clouds brewing behind my eyes

Something was wrong. The forest was uneasy, the murmur and groan of swaying branches caused by no wind that she could feel. As a peculiar darkness fell over her Erthë looked up from the spot where she had been grazing, strands of grass lodged in the corner of her mouth and suddenly tense, alert. The temperature was dropping rapidly, yet it seemed she was not at the center of this phenomenon. Suddenly worried she started forward, moving in the direction of the chill, plunging herself deeper into the unnatural darkness while gritting her teeth against the pains in her bad leg. This was no time for slow, awkward limping, no time to stand about and wonder what to do. Erthë had seen effects like these before and the mere idea that a monster like the ones she had once battled might appear here, in the Edge, was enough to make the hair along her spine stand on end.

She had not moved more than a few yards when a sudden flash of blinding light brought the sound of voices to her, many agitated individuals giving voice to confusion, unease, determination. She could hear the commanding rumble of Tembovu's familiar vocals, Elsa's acid half-challenge, thought herself able to make out other, younger voices that rang of foolish confidence. Erthë picked up the pace, and felt her skin tingle with fear and urgency when another, very different voice joined with the rest. One meek, soft, pleading. One deep as the very earth, a voice like mudslides and earthquakes, like gleaming fangs and razor sharp claws, all games and threats and deadly mirth.

Bursting out of the underbrush behind the others, the young filly took in the scenery before her. Ahead was a thick, dark bramble of thorns that appeared to be the epicenter of the supernatural occurrences - the unseen wind, the darkness, the unease - and facing it stood several members of herd - the king and queen, soldiers, a healer and foals she recognized from previous encounters. Before Tembovu was a fiery bright elephant that oozed molten rock and emitted a heat as intense as the cold around them, and she didn't even have time to be surprised because her attention went straight to the kids. Foolishly brave like herself, confident and fragile and too powerful for their own good; suddenly Erthë understood just why so many horses had thrown themselves before her on the battlefield, taking blows and injuries in her place. She had been angry then, insulted and embarrassed that they would think her so weak... but she couldn't blame them now that she knew the dread at the thought of those children being hurt.

How foolish she had been. How stupid she was now, to throw herself into the fray with a gimpy leg, stringing her bow and raising it towards the bramble even as these thoughts flashed across her mind.

Yet what could she do, when everyone around her was preparing to fight this horror that had appeared within their home? It was not in her nature to stand back and let others risk their lives while she did nothing. Age didn't matter, nor did experience, magical powers or physical health. It was a matter of pride, of doing the right thing... At least that was what Erthë told herself as she pulled the bowstring back and watched the freezing, magical arrow take shape, body tense as she waited for a command.

Nearby she heard Rohan mutter about the Goddess and Erthë glared darkly at him, suppressing an urge to walk over and kick him in the shins.

"How dare you insult the Lady in her own forest!?" she hissed at him around the bowstring.

"Why should She have to aid us with a task she placed on our shoulders? IF you are so delicate that you can't handle a few thorns without divine intervention then I suggest you train some more, sergeant."

It wasn't fair, but Erthë didn't feel like being fair right now. She was angry, worried and full of questions - hadn't the Goddess said it was just a patch of brambles? Or was it "just" in the immortal, all powerful meaning of "just", as in nastily difficult and potentially disastrous, and their Lady forgot that their were mere mortals with limited abilities? The Seer's apprentice gritted her teeth, hating herself for the doubts that flashed through her mind. No. The lady Moon would not forget about the frailty of mortal beings, not for a second. Of that the girl was certain. No, it was far more likely that this was a test, a challenge to see if they were deserving of the things they asked for. A necessary evil, destroying something old in order to create something new.

As for the reasoning behind the tasks, and this particular situation... she chose not to speculate. Who could truly understand the workings of a God's mind?

Erthë

And my heart will be blacker than your eyes
when I'm through with you