Hemlock heard the movement first, quietly taking off from his spot on Alysanne’s withers to circle above the tall green bamboo and see if he could discover who it was. He might be able to scare off Erebos if it was him, hopefully. But it was a flash of light blue, not dark, that he saw through the plants and his warning hoot came to Aly just as soon as she heard the rustling herself. Immediately, her head shot up and her eyes opened - catching the blurted question and she was even attempting to fabricate a smile - pretending as though she wasn’t freely bleeding, as though she could not hear the soft droplets of blood as they hit the ground.

But this mare noticed, even if Alysanne was happy to pretend otherwise, and whatever she was going to ask died as another question. A completely reasonable one, but ‘are you alright’ was far too complicated for Alysanne to answer.

With that false, strained smile, her green eyes focused on this stranger. “Oh… yes, I’m…” But as she folded her wing to fully hide the bleeding wound, she had to bite back a scream because that really hurt. Her eyes shut again and her ears pinned back in response, her heavy breathing only becoming worse as she tried to fight through while folding her wing. It took a couple moments for her to regain composure, or enough of it to complete the sentence. “Fine.” The word came out through clenched teeth, short and clipped because she knew it was obvious how not fine she was but she needed to say it all the same. She worried that this mare was a healer, worried about any outside attempts to offer assistance.

Already Alysanne knew she’d have to avoid the Edge, avoid her sister and any other friends, who would insist that she heal it.

Hemlock continued to circle above, feeling restless with his worry for Alysanne and uncertainty about this new mare. Was she a friend? Or would she take advantage of an already injured mare? Alysanne didn’t have much by way of items to steal - a few amulets and her glass headband - but for some it might be enough...

Slowly her eyes opened and her ears unpinned, adopting a curious expression and trying to find that ghost of a smile again. “What is it you’re looking for?” The painted mare’s voice was quiet as she asked, wondering just how successful her attempts to change the subject would be, returning it to whatever this mare was going to ask originally.