Silence. Despite the crack and hiss of distant fire and her own ragged breaths, all Megaera could identify was silence. It seemed to press in on her as she waited, either for attack or reprieve, a soft ringing in he hears and a pressure in her head, and seconds seemed hours as she waited. Through the seemingly endless moment, she kept her gaze fixed on his eyes, and in them, when she looked for rage and hatred she saw nothing. That disturbed her even more.

As he broke their eye contact to turn away, the mare felt the pain return. Even as relief washed over her, the adrenalin of her final rush seemed to ebb and she remembered that she was burned and sore and tired. She lowered her head, eyes closed in a wince. Meg had experienced pain before, her brothers and beaten her on a regular basis in the awful little games. Her wings had been bent and kicked and bitten, but fire, it seemed, had a pain all it’s own.

She looked up in wonder as the stallion spoke. ‘I’m sorry’ By years, Meg was grown, a mare in her own right, and even before then she’d always been so determined to be strong and bold a fierce. The fire had taken that from her. Though it might return when she had healed, right now she was a child again, and slow, silent tears tracked from her eyes. She’d gone from intrigue to terror to rage to relief in minutes and it overwhelmed her. She should run now while she had the chance but this strange, empty being before her was all at once a terror and a comfort.

She’d never seen anything quite like it, the spotted stallion’s cold fury had seemed to soften but it had been replaced by….well, by nothing. In the midst of her own physical pain, there was something about him that tugged at Meg. So desolate he seemed and in that state Meg couldn’t bring herself to be angry, to hate or to scorn. She’d never been a soft hearted thing, but there was more concern in her face and her heart than accusation, what pain must he know, what grief or curse or fear?

He spoke again, looking at her charred wings and she followed his gaze. ‘…does it hurt?’ She hesitated, logic told her to leave while she could, to stumble her way back to Dragon’s Throat… Would they want her back there? Bloody and burned as she was? Of course they would. she told herself, everyone there had been so kind, and little Alina was like the sister she’d never had. But she needed rest, and thogh she was wary of the stallion, there was something that made it seem she could ask the same question.

She shouldn’t trust him, and she’d never sought the comfort of others, but she was tired and hurt, yes it hurt, and the night beyond seemed so very cold. The beast was as much of a comfort as he was a lingering threat btu she lingered… I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t.” her words came out in a sigh that caught in her throat. She felt like she should say something else but was too distracted by the constant thrum of pain. Her scathed front legs shuffled as she tried to favor each in turn, and the mare backed up a few paces trying to find a more comfortable stance. Giving in, she lowered herself to the ground. It was an awkward process, and as dry dirt and rock raked across her knees, she gave an aggravated hiss. When she’d stilled, they stung but were better for having her wright off of them. Her wings still stuck up, they were the worst part, and getting them to fold at her sides drew out a cry, thogh habit had her jaw clenched to try and stifle it. “It’s I who should apologize, you didn’t toss me in that pit… and when I was out I was so confused, I thought… I thought…I shouldn’t have.” Meg struggled to put her thoughts into words and exhaustion flooded her. She looked up at the stallion, trying to find anything to say. “I’m called Megeara.” she decided on. Might as well start at the beginning.