Alas, the world has not run out of miracles. They are just busy working elsewhere. The remnants of the more recent one to afflict the world lay decaying on the brink not far from the bloodied basin, and a few paces beyond stood a filly. Anywhere else her coat would have carried the same shade of white as the nearly cleaned off bones of the enormous bear carcass, but beneath this canopy she had taken on a shade of pink that went rather well with the hue of putrid, oozing strips of meat that clung to rib, hip and spine. Once the grass had sparkled with glowing blue crystals fallen from the giant's back. Now they too were gone, along with the screams, the fear and the magic that had made the air vibrate.

She wasn't sure why she had gone back. The child visited this place every night in her dreams already and the marks of battle marred her youthful perfection, clouded the left eye with milky hues... and something foul had taken hold of her flesh, something that itched and swelled, burst and oozed down the insides of her legs. It was as though the blood that once had stained the red waters of the fountain had begun to flow from her instead, a curse left behind by a spiteful god. A punishment, for meddling in things that mortals should never touch.

Somewhere at the back of her mind she might have held a notion of bringing back one of those glittering, glowing crystals she once had faithfully gathered. But it was better this way. There was something so fundamentally wrong with the way the Time God had distributed the pieces of the fallen one that she was almost glad to have received none.

Almost. She was, after all, no more than a child, sad to have been left out when others got presents.

Slowly, noticing the presence of another in the clearing, Erthë turned her head and regarded the young maiden as she approached and drank from the ruby-lined pool. A shudder passed through her frail body at the thought if ingesting that when she knew what had mingled with those waters. The slender tail curled in disgust, wrapping around a spindly leg as though to contain the emotion before she let it spill.

"Don't drink more" she said eventually, though remained where she stood by the corpse. The bear was missing its head - she wondered what scavenger had managed to drag it off. "Bad water... There might be... stuff... in it still."

Fine wrinkles of distaste lined the velvet nose, more telling than a thousand cautioning words.