Though her teeth lashed out, they snapped around only air, though her head swung wildly, it collided with nothing. Confusion. In her panicked mind, she couldn’t understand where he had gone. Her vision was cloudy, irritated by the soiled air, and as she thrashed it had blurred. Her eyes darted upwards and there was the beast, towering above her in the perfect depiction of power. He was massive, far larger than she in height and build and when raised up upon his hind legs her only thought was of looming death. When he came down she knew it was over.

The bay mare blinked, body becoming still aside from the heaving of her barreled chest. Shock had wiped her mind blank of all but a whisper You’re already dead. But she wasn’t. She’d expected an attack, expected him to rush at her, break her, and toss her into the pit she’d only just escaped from. In another blink it occurred to her that she must still be alive. Her senses were sill a riot, firing information into her brain before she could process it. The chilled air was in stark contrast to the heat the emanated from the fire nearby; sweat collected on her body and them seemed to freeze around her fur. It helped to concentrate on her breath, the push and pull of air into her lungs helped still her mind even if each raked her sore throat.

It didn’t make any sense, why didn’t he just attack? Everything about his body language had implied that he would, and even now after she’d rushed at him in a rage, he wouldn’t make a move. Though he strange, reactionary movements might have hinted at the inner war of the beast, Megaera didn’t see it. He just stood there, imposing and dangerous, looking down on her with an icy stare. Their close proximity should have alarmed her more but he was just as intimidating from a distance as he was here. They stood, almost nose-to-nose (or would have been if they’d been more alike in height) and as she tried to think an odd memory occurred to her.

She’d been one of the many watching the two great stallions do battle, and only a young filly at the time. For hours it had seemed, the two enemies had clashed until both were battered and bloody. They’d stood for a moment, heads close and eyes blazing, both about to launch their final attack and then they’d stopped. Almost simultaneously, the two dark beasts had reached out, touched muzzles, and walked away from the field. Her aunt had told her it was a gesture of trust, of respect.

She knew it was mad, knew that touching him would probably be the ting to set him off, but the impulse would not be denied. Slowly, gently, with small dark eyes fized on the cold star of his ice-blue ones, Megaera reached upwards and pressed the tip of her muzzle to his.

The contact lasted only a moment then the young mare pulled away slowly, and in her low voice quietly repeated the words she’d heard long ago: ”Go friend, be at peace.”