When the rustle gave no reply, Ashamin searched for its heartbeat in earnest. Nothing but a fluttering, just the innocent fast pace of a rabbit. He saw the creature only moments later, timidly staring back with wide eyes, and scolded himself for such a brash call. No, surely he was alone. Who would come to the rotunda to spar on a night like this?

This was a night for lovers. Ashamin thought vaguely of his time spent in the secret grove. First with a filly, then in a dream. There hadn't been much there for him but death, either as he narrowly escaped it or longed for it, but he wouldn't be surprised if others were there now having a much better time. Meanwhile, he was in the ancient rotunda watching a rabbit flash its white tail at him as a sign of departure. He was, as usual, alone.

... Or so he thought.

The haruspex didn't have time to turn back to look into the rotunda before he heard the faint humming beneath him. He knew little of magic--he had only just discovered his own--but he knew that strange humming sounds should be avoided, supernatural or not. As soon as the first pitch sounded he bolted, swift as ever on his delicate deer hooves.

He would not be caught standing still like a fool again, not like he had been caught with Torleik or Rikyn. But Ashamin also couldn't stop curiousity from welling up, especially not when he felt a few stray droplets catch the base of his tail as he left the rotunda's shadow; who was the mysterious attacker who had sneaked up on him (surely from behind, Ashamin falsely presumed he would have seen anyone capable of this had they been ahead of him) and how come they hadn't announced themselves?

It was that unanswered question, that turned him around. His body swung as his hooves launched delicately from the stone, and he landed on the earth bordering the rotunda's floor. The buck stopped short, curled his lip in confused concern, and then made his grave error.

Ashamin, poor hopeless thing, turned to look back and opened his eyes, wide. Though he had felt the steam rising at his back--expanding his pores and quickening the beat of his heart as it struggled with the explosion of high temperature--it had not occurred to him that such a force could be blinding. The thick clouds of white evaporation clogged his senses and his coal eyes stung. They welled up with useless tears, and the haruspex thought of all the times he hadn't cried--the times more appropriate than this.

But as incapacitated as he was, chance was in his favor. As his body had halted, one poorly anchored amulet had flung itself from his sarong. Into the mist the adornment had descended, unleashing power of which the Haruspex knew nothing. If the God of the Spark's token, earned from Ashamin's victory over Caleb, did as it was meant to the strange attacker's heat might just burn the earth beneath them.

If Ashamin had known as much, he would have hoped fervently for such luck. But as it were, it was only his false knowledge--his assumption that the attacker had been behind him in the rotunda at the time of the attack--that inspired him to seek out a heartbeat like his own: one pumping harder, beating faster, struggling with the heat. Such electric pulses could perhaps give him a clue, if only he could find the right ones in all the sturm und drang.

It's one way... the buck struggled to think. The whole thought, whatever it had been, faded into the steam and settled into the air with a stagnant resilience. Ashamin wouldn't find the rest of it, he could only hope he'd not make too much of a fool of himself. He wanted to call out something in the mist, perhaps accuse his opponent of their obvious cowardice, but his mouth felt sticky and he struggled to still his motion. Ever since the steam had flooded his orbs he had been stumbling slowly backwards, and as a result he was unaware of the bird directly in his accidental path. Still he sought out electric heartbeats, filtering through the scattered pulses of the wildlife around him.

If only I could... Ashamin nickered with worry and furrowed the brow beneath his horn, trying to concentrate. If only I could find them!

And with that he lifted his left hind hoof and kicked backwards in frustration, his strike aimed (though perhaps not successfully and definitely accidentally) for the bird at his back. He just had to find the right heartbeat, and then he would know how comical that instinctive release of muscle and tension had been.

""