Zahra, Ilham, and Hanna

It was pride that turned angels into devils

His eyes wandered almost retiringly from their uninterrupted journey around her trembling figure and down towards a small orb nestled above the waterline. It was a curious thing, a delicate and beautiful contrast to the watery, windblown wonderland that shifted around it – and Zahra has seen one of its kind before. Her bright eyes trailed the stranger’s naturally and set upon the egg quickly.

A ‘panion!

The young filly remembered well the moment shell had flaked away from her own to reveal the soggy mass of fur within, Bird, and the one winged colt Zero had soon arrived to explain the mechanics of her sister’s appearance in the world.

Despite the stallion’s very visible stress and the strain behind each of the questions, Zahra launched off in an entirely different direction. “It’s a ‘panion,” she informed him bluntly, shedding the cloak of nervousness for one more knowing, matter of fact (more or less how she had perceived her wise young educator to be previously)… "...Tisn’t a bird, it’s a kits’ne. Zero told me. You can never be mean to it neither he says.” Glowing gaze slipped from the motionless egg, broadening with brazen expectation as she endeavoured to snag his disquietingly black eyes, and her lips travelled down to ghost above the puppy’s smooth forehead.

“…an’ we aren’t a manda, we’re sisters.”

The longer she stood poised above him, the further the aura of new found self-assurance seemed to expand around her. It was far cry from the timid youngling who had moments before, danced with temptation to flee into the wind. This one, seemed harmless enough though, she felt.

“…and why’s ya horn all soggy like a snake? They are sposed to stick up in the air you know. Even the ones like trees.”

Zahra was oblivious to the truth of his predicament. She was wasting valuable time.

“Ya ‘panion’s gunna freeze,” she mumbled softly, quickly, still allowing him no chance to respond to the chain of eager waffle. One tiny black hoof pulled from the mud, followed by the next, and the filly continued forward until she was hovering over the unfortunate egg with rattling nostrils skirting its curved surface – all irrespective of any concern shown by her company. Kindly she looked back for Bird, and the puppy skipped quickly to stand against one foreleg.

“Don’t eat it!” she shrieked suddenly as her sister inched keenly forward with tongue slapping hungrily at the whiskers dotting each cheek. “…sit on it, Bird. You’re nice an’ warm.” Zahra illustrated her meaning very carefully by moving above the fragile egg with steps set wide around. Zero’s advice echoed between her flicking black ears all the while.

She’s part’a you.You’re ‘sponsible for her…

The kitsune could hardly understand the taller’s verbal instruction, but she figured quickly enough that the purpose of this summoning was not to dine. Under close guard, she sniffed the shell and at last copied the foal’s motion. Thick, woollen hair wrapped around the egg and she curled to one side of it – wary eyes monitoring the stranger, sinew coiled and ready to spring at any moment.

“There ya go!” Zahra beamed triumphantly, turning back to the lounging stallion. Are you going to get up? Quietly she fixed her attention to him, more conscientiously than the last time. “Well…” she paused pensively (naturally appearing more silly than sagacious). “I don’t know what spar hurt ya but I reckon you should get out before it comes back… can’t look after ya ‘panion from there, ay.” Thoughtfully she glanced by the pooling red around him, and the gold stain melting into it. The discovery of her blood’s quality had come about quite by chance once, a long time ago during mindless play. It occurred to her suddenly as thought of that occasion consumed her, that she might even be able to stop this someone from bleeding too.

Fleetingly she turned to eye Bird, to make sure that the kitsune was right where she had been left, and then she shuffled a little closer to the horse. “Err… are ya broken bad?”