Soon after the wild interaction by the heart of Helovia, Zahra and her younger sisters had slipped into the relative solitude offered by the deep forest – one which had sheltered them through the hottest months, and shielded them safely through the recently rumoured rift. Still the burden of embellished silver preyed upon her mind, and weighed terribly across her still small frame, but she was relieved nonetheless to have its familiarity there; one of the few constants their nomadic lifestyle had retained. Often she thought of the flames and the freedom they offered, wondering just whether the right decision had been made. She craved freedom – to sever the chains binding her to the past, and to be rid of the cruel paranoia that seemed always to bring harmless shadows to life around them.

The dim, dank shade lay thick all around them, rich soil moist and cool beneath each belly, and slung between the rough, old wood surrounding were glittering silk curtains; webs above, throughout the canopy to form a rather distinct ceiling. The curious room had taken the crafty spider mere days to construct, and dancing upon many of the threads as the small dewy breeze passed by, were puny corpse decorations – countless victims, spawned from the golden-bellied’s still developing magic. Illam, slipped between these on silent toes, tending and re-wrapping those which were still living to manage their freshness (even despite the endless supply available). Beneath the rather morbid display, Pegasus and Kitsune dozed peacefully.

The tranquil silence of their forest sanctuary only helped to fuel the dreams that quickly infiltrated Zahra’s slumber, and she found herself stumbling out through a wilderness similar; the stench of pine lost amid the festering litter of the left behind reality. Always during these vivid journeys, she made a point to check herself – to conclude whether or not she was herself or her mother, and predictably she found the dark knees of the perished mare striking boldly forward. The young girl was timid in comparison, caught between realities and never really certain what or who to trust; the wandering life which had stunted the evolvement of her character did not help. There were others scattered between the trees as she passed quickly between, but they seemed not to heed her, the never seemed to notice.

‘Boys!’ one cried suddenly, causing both her stride and the illusion to falter. Zahra twitched where she lay, confused, lost, until the cool wet nose of the roused Kitsune called her to wake.

The strange voice (it wasn’t unfamiliar) peeled through the air again, and the yearling lifted from the comfortable earth to rest forequarters across elbows – a tentative posture. Pale gaze shifted cautiously to Ilham whose lofty position could see further afield and they narrowed with concern as the tiny, young arachnid perched frozen there in place. With a soft grunt Zahra heaved herself into a standing position and the collar slumped down behind the pitch of her trembling dark-dappled withers. Outside, all again seemed quiet and the girl slowly lead her four-tailed sibling out into the shadowy world beneath the trees.

There was no movement nearby to draw their attention, and after a moment spent dithering and hesitating, Hanna stepped forward with twitching nostril’s trained to the air – she guided them in turn, towards a small and quite unusual gathering. “Asha?” Zahra whispered in astonishment, a little louder than expected. Certainly she had not for one second predicted his appearance, so far from life and commotion – and he was not the slender, broken young creature once beheld. Time had served him well, she thought privately, examining a fuller figure through the branches, a careful but unpremeditated distance away. The kitsune too remembered him and withheld the trademark growl which seemed ever present during any unexpected encounters. Quietly delighted, she noted the garment too which she had crafted for him too many months ago to count. It was tattier than she recalled (maybe a trick of the obscure light) – but not at all beyond repair.

do you live for the summer or spring?
because you don't feel like winter to me
you came through this town like a breeze
do you live for the summer or spring?

Ironically, the girl found the scene unfolding in the shade before her (between gnarled bough and delicate  deep-forest undergrowth), quite surprising. Two creatures, small, unusual deer - one larger than the other - appeared to be in the once wounded stallion’s company; in fact, he was helping the smaller from a woody bind. The young girl smiled softly at the curiousness of their then resolving situation and stepped in a little closer, as the creature fell almost soundlessly to earth. Ashamin turned after a moments pause at the sound of her young, hesitant voice and returned back her own name with seemingly mutual astonishment. Still the smile widened and Zahra continued forward, closing the remaining distance (noticeably faster than he) with lighter, quickening steps. Her little ashen sister followed silently, large triangle ears pricked and alert above her shining, watching green eyes - aye, this acquaintance was not one to be feared.  

Only one of the painted stallion’s companions followed and the golden-girthed female regarded him fondly enough as he broke the metaphorical barrier of quiet and hesitation between the pairs, oblivious that in truth, his egg had been the one so concerning all those many months ago. As warm breath combined, his stark, white gaze stole her attention and for a second, vision of Zahra’s similarly golden-eyed father  flashed before her fluttering lashes. There was another too, a little like him, that the yearling had crossed paths with a very long time ago in the snow (though the grim circumstances still eluded her), and it was perhaps that initial interaction that saw her opinion of their deer-like kind sit so comfortably high. Slowly she withdrew, and her thoughtful notice turned to seek the contrastingly black-eyed unicorn nearby.

The kitsune padded near to the (apparently) black cerndyr as the filly moved on, wet, back nose uplifted  and twitching with cautious interest.

Ashamin spoke after what felt to Zahra like even two eternities, and she nodded gently, compassion leaking through her clean white expression in response. “We’ve been fine,” she assured easily and brightly, despite the many trials which had since found their journey - a loose chuckle even trailed. Fond greeting was exchanged then, heat momentarily grazing her cheek, “…and you.” Pale yellow pools swam from the worn sarong about him, towards the golden sheen where once he’d bled, and then again to the dark-pelted stag in their company. “New friends I see?” She skimmed the smaller, lingering deer to the rear before letting loose her eyes upon the stallion’s quite brawnier frame - much had changed about this old friend, indeed.

“Wait a moment!” she blurted suddenly, blinking rapidly as though to refocus her pattern of thought, “…come with me will you?” Zahra turned then, offering Ashamin little opportunity to decline, and slipped back between the old trunks towards those that concealed her webbed hideout. Only once she and Hanna were both standing beneath the elaborately curtained room (with their practically invisible sister watching from above), did the yearling turn again to find the curious, hoofed trio arriving behind - or so she trusted. “Will you let me mend your sarong?” Already, subtle threads previously woven together  all around them, were wriggling loose from their tethers, awaiting the draper’s command obediently.

---

Note: If you would prefer me to re-write the bit about Ashamin and his companions arriving in her hide-out, let me know :)  It was a little cheeky hehe.

do you live for the summer or spring?
because you don't feel like winter to me
you came through this town like a breeze
do you live for the summer or spring?

“Alone?” Zahra mimicked vaguely as she knelt nearer to the sullied fabric she and Ilham had created so perfectly too many seasons ago to count. She pondered loosely as she set to work wielding obedient threads, about Lochan and Rakt just before introduced, the curious companion’s kept by Ashamin now; then about her own sisters. Nay, the young filly couldn’t say she was familiar with the burden of isolation – at least not the sort the herd-stallion referred to. “There’s always someone passing us by,” she hummed cheerfully afterwards, sparing him the swiftest of smiles before turning her eyes again to the sarong. Each morning, the jovial sound of early-birds greeting the dawn roused the siblings from slumber, each night the chilling murmur of nightlife stirring to wake saw them bed beneath the sanctuary of web quickly; though seldom did others of Ashamin and Zahra’s kind delve into these cool, damp forest depths, there was always someone or something to acknowledge.  

She had missed his point entirely.

The tiny bark spider worked vigorously to restore the vast drapes as they began to unravel and descend. Though only the most discerning eye (or counterpart mind) might pick her miniscule body amid the shifting shadow, the silk Ilham produced swayed and gleamed noticeably as she tethered each length. It was a beautiful creation, and deceptively strong – unlike the lesser constructs seen commonly throughout the regions.

For a small time, Zahra fell silent and the intensity of her concentration became easily apparent. As magic brewed from deep within bubbled and surged through her throbbing veins, the world around her seemed to fall to the wayside; to fade away and become like only a very distant dream (not even as real as the visions that stalked her at night). Each breath inhaled seemed slower, silent – almost as though she were entering a state of hibernation painted skin twitched and flinched subtly, and narrowed eyes were set steadfastly upon her craft.

It wasn’t at all her intention to ignore their guests.

Only when the sarong had been renewed and reinforced to the best of her ability (at least without making a new one entirely), and the appearance visibly freshened, did Zahra seem to tumble from her coma. Brightening eyes lifted quickly, catching in their pale yellow midst a stream of soft sunlight. “All pretty again!” she grinned, lifting her sunken frame from the dank, musty earth to stand once more. As though the conversation had not been interrupted to begin with, the young girl began to speak. “…a Da?” Such an idea seemed queer to the yearling; her own Da – Midas, had seemed so much older than Ashamin. Asha was a friend… Still, she felt as though there was a new aura about him and it caused a warm smile pull at the wrinkled corners of her mouth. “You seem…” Thoughtfully she let her gaze swim between his bottomless black eyes. There was nothing really left of the wounded soul by the lake. “…good now,” she concluded earnestly – eloquence wasn’t her strength.

do you live for the summer or spring?
because you don't feel like winter to me
you came through this town like a breeze
do you live for the summer or spring?

Eight glistening, cautious black eyes scrutinised the unexpected visitors from their vantage point overhead, though little other than blurred movement and dim, dark silhouettes could be truly made out by the near blind arachnid; all the same, the unfamiliar voice of the male and the stench of his companions easily betrayed their presence. Warily she tied and fastened the threads left loose after her sister’s sudden sewing task, using rough trunk bark and the vastly spread, spindly tips of both new and dead kindling as sturdy tethering points - a task that would undoubtedly take hours longer than it had to unravel. As she worked, snippets of the occurring conversation - or the filly’s mental impression about it at least - offered further clarity on the situation unfolding beneath; his appearance in their beloved web-nest and that of his unspoken followers (deer-folk, she understood partially, and with only very mild interest).

A bright and sudden avian trill rose from a neighbouring tree and the spider vanished swiftly into the sanctuary of a tightly curled leaf.

Immediately distracted by her sister’s flash of panic - electric white energy stunning her mind, Zahra’s soft gaze turned towards and narrowed upon the silvery drapes above. The theory of anything so small and frail like a bird, hardly seemed intimidating (perhaps a snake instead might proven reason for pause), so the young girl soon found her attention returning to their painted company. She was undeniably touched by Ashamin’s thoughtful remark, and her naive smile broadened still further. Pale-golden eyes dipped proudly by the blanketing sarong, but they lingered not, instead dancing back to greet the  marvellous suggestion that other weavers existed in Helovia. “There are?” she queried eagerly, too quickly and in turn interrupting; naturally imagining a veil of fantastically glittering web all adorned with tiny spiders much like her own sister. Readily she shared the idea with Ilham, turning her nose upwards once more for the quickest of moments. The puny creature, who had by then reappeared, hummed busily in response, curious perhaps, but her inherent lifestyle preference was easily more reserved; reclusive, without vain competition.

The stallion’s next few comments were answered by a thoughtful, warm smile, and Zahra unintentionally, childishly of course, overlooked their basic intention. That seemed the problem with a rather introverted manner of living - she lacked social skill, emotional understanding and evidently, had not the ability to read between the lines. She might have mentioned then that she was good also (she knew no better in truth), but Ashamin’s gentle tone broke that train of thought. Presently she glanced by both Lochan, and smaller Rakt, as though for some sign which might validate their horned brother’s suggestion; then with baited breath she considered her beloved sisters. Again rose the idea of crafters like herself, and she trembled with both excitement, and a rising fear of so many other unknowns. By then, Hanna had arrived by her slender right leg, and her warmth in the cool of the shadow-world was a comfort.  

Snow… was all the intelligent mind below uttered - the kitsune remembered well the fate of Zahra’s mother, the well-masked reason for the yearling’s dislike.

Lips tenderly nibbled at the fuzzy yellow tips of the canine’s ears. The girl was so intrigued by Ashamin’s generosity - by the notion of a home, like never she’d had before - that she was almost prepared to accept his invitation without any real regard for either of her siblings, or their approval. “We are a family,” she gestured slowly, acknowledging the powerful bond between the unlikely trio - realistically, that between Zahra and each of her companions individually. Little did the spider or kitsune at that stage care for each other. Then she mumbled more for her sake than his, “that won’t change…” Surely Hanna and Ilham were aware of that. Nevertheless, a moment of silence was spent trying to convey that thought before she drew a long, hesitant breath.

“Yes Asha. I would!”

do you live for the summer or spring?
because you don't feel like winter to me
you came through this town like a breeze
do you live for the summer or spring?

Her mother’s had been a heart so easily swayed by the wicked mind, manipulated and deceived, and ultimately such naivety had been her greatest undoing. There had been a night, countless moons ago, before nights had blended into days and days then on into depressingly dark weeks; even before the very first rift had leaked strange doppelgangers into the regions of Helovia.
 
Beneath the sly grin of a milky moon, evil drew the Starry-Eyed from the sanctuary of her home and far, far into the north – a treason that she had barely days prior been warned against. The ghost, the impish white creature who guided their ill-fated journey shared not the same worry or concern for their welfare, and should the dappled have known better, she might have realised the blaring signs of a suicide mission; the signature disregard of a psychopath. Never the less, the young foolish pegasus so consumed with guilt and apprehension, could not bear to abandon her newest herd-sister. Upon the snow, the Basin’s only gateway, they met a fate so brutal, so deadly; the pale devil perished there, and the senseless grey was taken prisoner, tortured and rendered flightless forevermore.
 
It was a grim destiny that had haunted her even to the grave.
 
The soft-hearted filly with the patchwork coat - black, white and sprayed beneath in gold – was none the wiser, oblivious, and without any grudge to conserve (no concern better than a deep loathe of snow), she could barely contain the buzz of excitement as it engulfed her core, her mind; spewed effervescent gold through each marvellous vein. Her composure (though brittle it was), began to crack, and it seemed the joy stirring through her was felt mutually across the small crowd. Lochan burst to life, cavorting away so suddenly that the tentative kitsune (who had been watching guardedly) fled backwards, finding shelter by the pointed pale hock of her towering sister. Emerald eyes grazed the approach of the other cerndyr’s narrow maw as it brushed a far fetlock, and Hanna’s small, unsure whine pierced the air. Though considerably more reserved then each of the hoofed beings around them, both the little white canine and her eight legged sibling overhead, could scarcely resist the brilliant energy circling through their minds.
 
Ashamin, clearly pleased with her decision, spoke then and in the same breath stepped nearer through the haze of shadow upon them. Zahra giggled brightly, a sound quite overflowing with nervousness, and allowed the stallion to guide her forward – grinning childishly, until she realised the future of their lovely web den. She listened vaguely as he voiced his thoughts about her as an apprentice – the students of her craft, weaving, he divulged soon after, and though her ears fixed firmly to each word he offered, the girl’s eyes began to drift away. His voice became something like an echo, rolling and dulling beneath the bars of the old timber bars above them as the magic began to boil again through her blood. All at once, a dozen threads or more began to unravel and unwind; and down swung the tiny bark spider from the chaos to hide within her mane. Tightly woven sheets of shimmering silver-white began to form, to fold, and fall upon the soil – three perhaps four, at least half the length she was. Zahra could not bear to leave the glorious material spun by her sister and soon the forest looked bare, like the drapes had not been there in the first place.
 
“I can’t just leave them,” she explained, turning to Ashamin with an apologetic glint in her pale eyes. Hanna slipped from her cover below the young mare’s hindquarters, and seized one ream between her teeth. “Will you help drape them over my back?” she asked quickly, reaching already to lift the first from the ground. As each came to rest upon her, snug against the ill-fitting silver collar, she lifted and closed useless feathered wings, to secure them in place. 

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Note: We can move on to the Basin next post if you want!?