"Easy, dear," she comforted the white-faced filly. "This one has no harm in his intent, I think. He is only a jester." Flashing a brilliant grin towards the stallion Ezital, Fiachra bobbed her head. "It is wonderful to meet you both. A true pleasure."
She turned the slightest bit to face Ezital. "My name is Fiachra, your majesty," she told him, exaggerating his claimed title mockingly and giving him a slight bow in return. "This is my newest friend, young Zahra. She comes from the, er...." Glancing at the winged filly, she paused for a moment, trying to remember if Zahra had said the name of where she lived. "Um... the north?" she concluded, a bit unhelpfully. She gave a little shrug and moved on.
Her flank twitched with a sudden itch and the agile mare bent easily around to rub her small nose-horn against the irritation. She sniffed herself, but came back to the conversation. "I am hoping for a friendly place to rest my head for a while." Then, to give some explanation, she continued, "I have been travelling for a long time, you see. And from a very, very long way away."
She snorted as the irritation on her side returned. This time she turned and bit harshly at her own hide in an attempt to quell the itch for good and ever. Had she brushed against something in the trees as she had diverted from the path? Perhaps. Or perhaps it was only her tired and aching body making up phantom discomforts in an attempt to hurry her along in finding a place to lie down for a while. She really couldn't be sure.