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Why was I here? Staggering along, tired, my Edana at my side, stumbling, bumbling, crashing through the snow, blue-of-ice eyes exhausted as I crossed into the herdland. Death. It was closing in on me, closing its hands, tightening its grip, squeezing me, crushing me painfully. I was starving. My ribs showed through my pitiful coat, and I knew I was bleeding to death fighting off that Mandrake who had attacked my precious baby. Exhausted I was, too exhausted to move, until I was choking, retching, head low to the ground, trembling. No longer was my coat white and pure as an untouched filly's. No, it was cut and bleeding and dripping red blood.
I was watching in dark pleasure as the mare came stumbling into the domain of me and my children, entering the black world starved and about to collapse. The filly was trotting at her side, worried, but nonetheless healthy enough, little thing. I hated fillies. Hated them more than anything. The hate was choking me, twisting me, until all I could see was the splatter of red blood on snow. "Sons!" I call, and I wait, watching for my loyal babies to arrive. "Kill them, darlings, kill them until their blood runs red and bright." I croon to my children, and I take pleasure in knowing my sons will not stop until the two horses are dead. I glance upwards, towards the darkening sky. Perfect. No damned witnesses will risk this mission, run back to a certain pegasus to tell her of the murderers my sons are in my presence. A clean, quick kill is all that's necessary. I stand on the slopes of the mountain, and watch as my sons kill.
[ooc: just assumed at least one or two sons showed up. Also, the filly escapes into the forest and to her father, and the sons leave her alone please.]
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Mandrake
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![[Image: v75vt4.png]](http://i47.tinypic.com/v75vt4.png)
