Zahra, Ilham, and Hanna

It was pride that turned angels into devils

Golden liquid pulsed from the unfortunate wound upon the lowest half of her spindly limb, but it was nothing in comparison to the gored flesh collapsed beneath lapping, lake waters. A voice sailed through the dappled grove, and it wasn't at all like the suave confidence executed by their absent brother; it quivered upon the brisk breath of the wind, failed and broke silence again. Zahra listened intently despite the low warning growl still present by her sister. The foal's fine, tapering black nose was turned towards the direction she presumed the stranger to be - the previous splash too, a handy hint. Her thin, inexperienced nostrils pumped the cold air in rapid succession as she tried in vain to pick the stranger's musk upwind (perhaps) and stiff ears were set firmly, high upon her fluffy poll.

"I am..." she answered too softly, tenderly, caught between hesitation and nagging curiosity and the tiny hoof which had slid the first step in reverse quickly returned to stand beside it's golden twin.

She was still dithering when he called out again, swaying like the reeds flanking the water body nearby, dancing to the moan of winter's merciless song.

Conviction stirred her heart to race - concern, confusion - and Zahra stumbled forward again along the course she had originally intended. The swollen mangrove roots tripped her often, but she arrived upon the weak embankment soon enough, and without further injury. The kitsune trailed nervously behind, offering the concealed creature a generous berth (though she would have quickly risen to her brave, or foolish, sister's defence should the need have arisen). Together they discovered the grim scene, and Ilham too slipped from her web-cocoon to view, pulled by the sudden turmoil of the stunned filly's thoughts.

He's dying?

Quickly she found the scarlet staining the water all around him and it provoked a chain of candid memories, flashbacks that were as confronting as they were random. She was laying upon the snowy tundra far north, neck bent tightly upwards, hide behind slathered in old brown-blood; bone jutting and torn flesh - it caused Zahra's to swallow hard and blink away the sight. As light again flooded her glistening eyes, there was an entirely new landscape surrounding, thick forest and a bright roar that she could not place; and she was gesturing frantically, though no explanation fell from rolling lips at her nose's end. Movement flashed around her, white, black, brown, and suddenly the weight of night had set upon her - so deafening was the wail of war, and it seemed suspended in the atmosphere.

The warmth of her startled sister's arrival between flinching forelegs freed the foal from the vision prematurely and distracted entirely, she pressed her mouth heavily into the pup's downy coat. You saw that too? she breathed softly and silently, unaware that her sister's mind was so unluckily bound to her own - that and the cruel scars of recent events were yet to fade from Bird's memory.

Crisp white lashes fluttered with new indecision as her gaze fell again upon the fallen horse, the stranger who had triggered the barrage. She could not leave him though...

As Zahra let her eyes trace the length of his part submerged, mottled frame, she asked him gingerly, "what happened?" She was not trained to spot grievous injury, pain lathered expression or otherwise the hopelessness he embodied. The half-starved babe had spent merely two seasons crawling earth's crust, and many of the experiences she might have drawn from had been numbed from her reach. "Camon will be here soon..." she added nervously, as soothingly as she could manage, shuffling her hooves as she loitered awkwardly above- he would know what to do better than anyone.