I'm unsurprised when others arrive, but I won't lie - I'm disappointed. I'd lost out last time against just two other horses, what chance do I have against this amount? A small hint of jealousy coils in my gut - an emotion I'm not used to. All these other horses can have children and families of their own, and they do not need companions for friendship when they can so easily create a new life. I don't have that option. So when the elephant speaks and asks us all to tell her why we deserve the egg, I'm quiet for a moment to listen to the others before I decide what to say myself.

I can't help but feel disdain for the three that speak first, even though they are undoubtedly good people. They all mention being parents, which begs the question why do they need the egg? They can have children whenever they want, and lovers. I can have none of those things. They do not know true loneliness. I'm unused to these emotions, unused to how scenarios like this bring out a competitive and bitter side in me. I am empathy incarnate, a healer, never one to judge. Yet here I am, scorning the others and their attempt to win the egg. I hate what I'm thinking, and I hate myself for thinking it. It seems that actually wanting something brings out a side of me that I don't like.

The fourth is younger, and mentions immortality. I look at her curiously, and remember what Ampere said about companions dying when their bondeds did. This girl being immortal would ensure the egg would never have to die or suffer the pain of losing its partner, which makes the filly an ideal candidate in my eyes. But that doesn't mean I'm going to back down without trying to get the egg myself. All of these others, young and old, will one day have foals that will take their love and attention. I never will. This companion would be the closest thing I have to a child for the rest of my life, and would never have to share my heart.

I look shyly at the elephant. "I, uh, will never have children. I've never had any, either, so I have little experience with caring for small, helpless creatures." Although I did carry them around on my back for most of my life! "But I know I would care for the egg...not like a parent, because I don't know what that's like, but as a friend, a protector, a companion. We can never truly play mother to a different species, but we can love them like they're our own. We can care for them unconditionally, and build a true relationship with them. I know I would." I shift nervously, afraid my spiel is inferior to the others, with their advantage of having offspring.