Mordecai spotted Meg before the mare could summon the courage to move any closer and much to her surprise, came towards her. That didn’t make any sense. What child would pick the volatile Megaera over the kind Alija? The girl muttered as she moved and the repeated syllable solidified the fear that was quickly wresting away control. She can’t mean… That’s NOT what she means! She’s only trying to say Megaera. the mare told herself, trying to remember if her name had even been said around the girl. Legs twitched, as an urge to run flared but a sharp pain in her shoulder reminded her that she could not. Gwaihir could feel the turmoil in his Meg and, already the more levelheaded of the two, worked to keep her calm. The young eagle had gathered this gist of what had happened in the veins and of what Meg was now facing, and set himself up to help her carry through. He knew her heart, it was good and strong even if it now fluttered in panic she could never truly want to turn her back on someone that needed her as desperately as this child did. So he pinched with the sharp talons upon his feet and held Megaera there

Mordecai reached her and lifted her nose in greeting. Megaera was so unarmed by the gesture that she immediately reached out and pressed her scarred nose to the babe’s delicate one. How was she supposed to fight this? She was a warrior, trained to fight with hoof and tooth. She could stand alone against an army one thousand strong and fight to her last drop of blood, but what defense did she have against a baby that reached out for her?

Almost in a trance, she watched the filly move to her side. The tiny nose pressed small nudges along her side, and then found its mark. There was nothing that could have prepared Meg for the feeling of Mordecai nursing from her body. It was… it was…everything. Wave after heady wave of sensation crashed over the mare, giddiness, concern, satisfaction and trepidation in equal measure but above all was devotion. For long moments, all panic was held at bay while Meg simply marveled at the girl. The fuzzy coat that covered her in waves of inky black, her long ears and tiny wings, each was so delicate, so precious, the mare wanted to sigh over each in turn. The tuft of white tail, so funny with its little wiggle, but best of all was the whole. Everything that made up Mordecai was precious because Mordecai herself was, and with every passing second she was etching herself deeper into the warrior’s heart.

The sound of Einarr’s approach shattered the sweet little moment, opening the floodgates in her mind to all the uncertainty and agitation. She stiffened as he neared, all of the sudden so self-conscious of every flaw she had or imagined herself to have. He would see them now, surely. This whole situation was that bulky beast’s fault but she had no doubt he would object to the earth god's choice for the very reasons Meg herself had done. She was a warrior, not a mother. Einarr spoke and her dark eyes flicked up from the girl only to find him looking directly at her. She yanked her eyes away from them both, unable to meet either gaze and again Meg reached for fire to cloak herself with and hissed at him with a quiet growl in her throat.“It should have been someone else.”