Ophelia knew that she had to hunt for the egg before it hatched, as she had aided Adele so long ago in hunting for little Vera. Now, it was finally her turn, the young mare danced around the meadow like a filly again. She snorted once through her nose and stopped, body tense to scout out the area, but instead of searching with her eyes, she looked with her mind.

An absent humming of a small squirrel, muttering something about needing nuts for the winter caught her attention and she turned sharply, shoving the point of her horn in the direction of the voice with marked violence. Her dragon would need to feed on their flesh, just as eventually, the earth would reclaim her dragon. The cycle would be complete.

Ophelia grinned, watching as the squirrel died instantly. At least the little beast did not suffer too much, and she grabbed it in her maw with a sour expression and placed it down next to the silver orb. After taking a moment to admire the beauty of the egg, she returned to her motherly duties, taking them very seriously.

She closed her eyes again and sought out with her mind, hearing a small, burrowing owl nearby. Those creatures were fast, but she lunged forward, daggered hooves pointed for the kill. Ophelia came down on her lithe forehand roughly, jarring her body. Now, would the creature lay dead beneath her hooves?

Chicks during this time of year? The young mare felt her heart drop with sorrow, and she tried to find their tiny voices deep beneath the ground. With a small sigh of sadness, she breathed in the hole, able to smell chicks that were almost full grown. Hopefully they would no longer need their mother for food. She took the carcass and dropped it near the squirrel body before seeking out with her mind again.

Ah... what about fish? Her dragon egg did come from the sea. She trotted to the bank of the river and speared her horn in a few times for practice. These little silver creatures were fast! Then, she waited for a school to come by before lunged her horn forward, holding her breath in case her head became submerged.

Blood. That smell was unmistakable. It made her feel ill, and she quickly washed the red out of her horn, though the noticed that the color would never wash out of her mane. With an odd feeling crawling through her, she looked at the water, feeling that she would have a good chance here. Already she was so close to a kill before...

Without thinking, Ophelia lunged forward again with her horn, hoping to land a kill. She found irony in the fact that she must look a fool, jerking her head into the water repeatedly.

The taste of dead, cold fish was disgusting, and she took its body over to the others and deposited it quickly. Ugh. What a gross taste. A sour expression was painted on her features, and she snorted to try and get rid of the smell that automatically went with the taste. She would she could forget it, but she knew that it was another memory that would be stuck.

With a small grunt, she trotted through the fields, her cloven hooves making only small marks on the ground. Then, she spied in a deer in the distance. Should she? The mare frowned. The creature was too much like herself in many ways, and she watched as the doe and fawn ran from her. She let them go.

Instead, she turned and listened again. What was that? A frog? She jumped at it with her hooves, and a grimace on her face. Would the frog squish between her toes? Ew. With half lidded eyes squinted carefully, she lifted one of her hooves, wondering if she would see squishy frog guts on her hoof.

Ophelia sighed in relief. No squished frog beneath her hooves. She definitely wanted to go after a different type of prey this time. Frogs were just too gross, and she did not want her poor baby dragon to have to deal with the slime.

The young mare then walked around until she saw a weasel and chased it down. She snapped her jaws low, hoping to crush the lean creature between her teeth.

Ophelia had shut off her mind from the suffering of the creature, knowing that this was a necessity for her young dragon. Would it be a he or a she? Her curiosity was intense. She dropped off the weasel and looked at her growing pile of bodies. One more should do it.

The young mare then heard a small fluttering noise and turned her head, watching as a curious badger sniffed the bodies. Perfect timing. Ophelia lowered her head and lunged forward at the same time, wanting to spear the creature.