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

The porcelain dove arrived upon a scene of murder. A wolf, big and terrible, lay motionless in a pool of blood. Capable of stirring her fears even in the arms of eternal sleep, she still found something... almost pathetic over the long limbs, the furry ears and the unseeing eyes. Wolves were supposed to be alive, fierce and dangerous, jumping and running and watching with eyes that gleamed in the night. They were supposed to be predators, not prey.

Seeing one lie broken like this... it stirred up emotions within her that she couldn't name, undercurrents and memories she'd really rather not think about. Like a wave it surged up from the depths of her soul and broke across the childish features in the form of beading tears in the corners of the eyes. With a soft gasp of breath Erthë fought to withhold them, head jerking up from the wolf and snapping towards the place where someone had disappeared off into the woods, the sound of their progress still audible in the night.

"Wait!" the filly cried, silvery vocals quivering with rarely felt anger and unshed tears. "Come back here! Why did you do that, why did you kill it!?"

She made to follow after the retreating figure but had to give up after only a few steps, the damaged front leg much too painful to support her. Trembling under the force of her emotions the child reached for the ivory bow she carried beneath a pearly wing and released it, let it hover before her as she reached for the string. With no thought to consequences, ignoring the sharp words adults had spoken after an accident, she plied the bow and unleashed the brilliant, freezing light after murderous stranger. Not to hit him, no - though the thought of branding the surely flabby butt with ice was oddly exciting - but to catch his attention for sure, to force him to obey her commands and return to explain his actions.

"Don't you dare walk away!"

Fierce and unafraid she stood before the fallen wolf, gleaming pure and pale under the light of the new moon. Unconcerned in the face of potential danger, oblivious to anything beside the need to hear answers, to receive explanations and words of regret. The beauty of the night was not lost to her, but rather increased her anger; how dare he defile the world with murder and bloodshed, when the gods themselves had declared peace and prosperity once more!

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