"And now I wish to God that The earth would turn cold
And my heart would forget it's made of glass"

Now that she finally found a healer, the filly began to feel nervous. Following the chestnut mare away from the others, with the scent of blood and mucus and newborn babies still clinging to her nose, Erthë tried to formulate what she wanted to say in her head. But rather than eloquent requests for an examination of the aching leg, all that went through her head was questions and doubt. What if the leg was broken beyond repair? What if she would never be able to use it properly again? Uncle Badger and that other healer had both used their magics on it, but still it ached and swelled and hurt like nothing she'd ever felt before whenever she tried to walk on it normally. At best she could manage a heavy limp for a few paces, before the pain grew too great to endure.

Even as they stopped, far enough away from other horses that they would be able to talk without being disturbed, her mind remained blank. Under the expectant gaze of the healer -  Evangeline, as she had introduced herself as to Tembu - the little hybrid twisted and fumbled for words, trying to describe the issue as accurately as possible.

"Uhm, well... The thing is, I hurt my leg - this leg" she said, holding out the right front hoof with a poorly suppressed wince. "And I got help from several healers right away, but it still hurts. A lot. I can't walk on it, and since my other foot isn't working properly either, I can't really move that well at all." She indicated the left front leg, whose joint was feeble and overly flexible, damaged in the impact with the ground when she had been thrown by the Crocodile.

"Can you make it better?" the filly asked, worry coloring the silvery voice despite her best efforts to appear cool and suave about it. "Can you fix me?"

What she would do if there was nothing to be done... Not even she knew. There was so much she still had left to do. Places to see, things to learn; how would she grasp the mechanics of flight if she couldn't run? How was she supposed to find storytellers and wise people if she couldn't travel like before? The world was so big - Erthë didn't think she would be able to stand being cooped up in the Edge for the rest of her life, when there was so much wonder to behold beyond its borders.

There had to be something Evangeline could do. It just had to.

"And all the pretty tulips would disappear
And never disturb me again"

"And now I wish to God that The earth would turn cold
And my heart would forget it's made of glass"

"Uh, well..." the child replied, wings ruffling guiltily as she averted her eyes from the face of the healer, "I kinda got in a fight with a god... You know, one of the foreign ones. Or well, two, really... One smacked its tail into me so I fell and cricked this leg, and the other kinda swiped me with a paw so I flew backwards... and then the leg broke."

It was rather embarrassing to admit it. Erthë wasn't stupid, it hadn't taken her long to figure out that she wasn't really supposed to get involved with these battles. Too young, too small. Who cared that she had been ordered into it by a god, she still shouldn't have stayed to fight... Well. As much as she hated to worry those who cared for her, the filly wasn't about to stand back and let her friends and family get hurt just because she was a bit young. If there were things she could do, then she would do them - and if she ended up a bit bruised because of it, she wouldn't mind as long as she was able to make a difference.

Alas, adults didn't seem to like this train of thought, so she didn't say anything about her reasonings or the fact that she'd volunteered into both 'fight's'. Instead she lowered herself clumsily to the ground, the image of obedience as she let Eva examine her leg - either or both, whichever she felt like. Smiling at the pretty, orange dragon she extended a nose towards him in greeting, then settled down and watched with keen, interested eyes as the Healer began to work.

It was a very interesting feeling. The magic swirled like wind, like black mist or the essence of night and enveloped her leg (the broken one, it turned out) and Erthë felt it like a cold, tickling sensation that was very pleasant. The magic itself was soothing to look at, and the feeling of it seeping into her body was numbing, comforting, not at all unpleasant.

Gazing at Eva however, that was more unsettling. The mare was frowning, and as time dragged out her expression turned grim and troubled. Black butterflies began to dance in her gut as Erthë watched her, worry gnawing at her insides despite the comforting presence of the dragon curling up beside her. Eva excused herself, and Erthë nodded, but it was difficult to lay still and quiet, to not call out for the mare to come back and not leave her alone.

What was going on? The leg felt kinda numb and cold but the pain was still there, throbbing to the rhythm of her heart and stabbing her whenever she stirred. Had the magic not worked? It didn't always fix everything, the filly knew this; Badger had said that it wasn't infallible, but the only time so far when it hadn't worked was against the Rift sickness. And in the end it had been magic that healed her after all... Was it that the darkness of the Moon was unable to heal her leg, or that the leg would resist magic altogether now? Or was it completely irreparable, so that she would have to live with pain for the rest of her life? Limping around, unable to walk or run or fly....

Erthë swallowed the frightened whimper and sought out the warm, solid form of the dragon with her nose, curling up around Tallis for comfort and reassurance. She had to have faith; Eva was a healer blessed by the Lady Moon after all, surely there wasn't anything she couldn't fix.

"And all the pretty tulips would disappear
And never disturb me again"

"And now I wish to God that The earth would turn cold
And my heart would forget it's made of glass"

Soft lips brushed gently over the bright scales of the dragon, stroking the curled up form absently while a storm of thoughts and emotions whirled within. The scent of reptile, of smoke and sulphuric acid tickled her nose, and his frame was warm, almost painfully hot against her frigid skin. Grass tickled against her belly and legs, a soft breeze tousled the pearly locks - it was a beautiful day, warm and bright and vibrant with overflowing verdure, and by rights it should have been filled with joy, with play and pranks and laughter.

Not pain. Not worry, sadness or brooding thoughts. And yet, to the wintry fawn the trickle of sunlight through green canopies and the glitter of drifting bugs and dust was a mere reflection, something her eyes took in without fully processing. Her focus remained on the dragon, on the tight knot of unease in her belly and on the adults that spoke quietly a few strides away, their voices a low murmur in her ears. Erthë wished she could hear what they were saying, but they spoke too quietly for more than stray syllables to reach her, disconnected and without meaning. There was no mistaking the serious looks on their faces however; miss Eva was frowning and Tembu looked like he wasn't having a very good day at all.

They were talking about her, the filly knew that. Talking about her, and frowning, and it fed the heavy lump until it grew heavy as led, a tight knot of fear that weighed on her spirits and made it hard to smile. She stroked the dragon, but it was more to soothe herself than Tallis, who probably would have been happier without her chilly affections.

A rustle of hooves stepping through grass caused her slender head to jerk up and around, so suddenly that she cricked her neck and disturbed the painful leg. A stab of pain shot through her and made Erthë hiss, face contorted in a grimace as she tried to smile at Tembovu and bite back a whimper at the same time.

His question was probably well meant and rather simple, but it placed the child in a state of confusion. Her first instinct was to say 'I'm fine!', but since she was lying here with a healer hovering over herself and unable to walk, it would have been too blatant a lie. But what should she say? That it was a beautiful day and she loved listening to the birds chirping in the trees, that she long to run around and chase butterflies so much that her chest ached, or that she was sad her mother wasn't there to experience it with her? Or maybe that she hadn't seen her dad for a while now and feared he had left her there in the Edge and disappeared somewhere, like Shadow had used to do, that she felt hurt he hadn't played with her even once since they came back from the Islands, or that she was terrified of never being able to walk properly again for the rest of her life?

But if she said that, the filly felt she would probably begin to cry, and she didn't want that. The grown ups were worried enough already, she didn't want to add her tears to their burdens too. So she gazed up at the stallion, picked up the smile that had faltered for a moment and replied softly, with no trace of fear in the voice - the picture of serenity and calm.

"I'm okay" she said - which was kinda true, she wasn't dying or anything after all. "It just hurts all the time, so it's hard to move... and sleep."

The last part slipped out of its own and Erthë bit her tongue, angry at herself for revealing it.

"And all the pretty tulips would disappear
And never disturb me again"