My thoughts are the cold kind,
I've got storm clouds brewing behind my eyes

It was a trial in patience to remain silent while the filly mulled over her suggestions. For someone as impulsive and fickle as Erthë it was quite admirable not to shuffle about, sigh in frustration or tap a cloven hoof against the ground, a true sign that age really did come with greater stocks of wisdom - or at least common decency. If she happened to readjust the wings or flick her tail a bit too excessively it was certainly not a conscious attempt to hurry the girl along. On the contrary, Erthë was already beginning to regret her own suggestions. Though it was too late to say something of the sort now, it was starting to look mighty reckless just to drag this child to the Throat. While indeed the shortest distance of travel to a place guaranteed to possess competent healers, Bathsheba would likely have been better off staying here while Erthë set out to find some outcast healer or perhaps even attempted to sort the kid out herself. Would she even have the strength to travel in her condition? And if it truly was nothing more than bruising, like she said, then would there be anything left to heal by the time they did reach the desert isle?

But, Erthë sighed to herself, done was done and the girl was nodding that she accepted the offer to help. Taking it back now would be cruel indeed, so the young philosopher forced herself to smile like she meant it while she nodded to the stocky paint.

"Good, then we'll do that" she said, warmth coloring the vocals as tension drained from the cords. "You should rest a bit before we head off. Why don't you lie down and sleep for a while? I'll wake you in a few hours, we'll get going before the temperatures rise again."

Stepping aside so that the path to the shrines behind her no longer was blocked, Erthë indicated with a wing that Bathseba could lie down on the smooth surface in front of the structures. It might not be comfortable, but at least the Veins was one of the safer places to rest. Few big predators found their way in here as the grazing was too scarce to attract prey, and though the glowing eyes and yelps of lantern foxes could be eerie enough the skittering creatures couldn't do much to harm to horses, not when one was in moderately good shape.

Besides. Would the gods really tolerate violence to be performed on this holy ground? Erthë wanted to believe that they wouldn't, that they somehow protected and safeguarded this location even though the shrines no longer stood whole and inhabited. It felt better to think that way, and comforted by the imagined presence of divine protection Erthë settled in herself to wait, determined to get as much rest as she could while the sky darkened and night set in.

There would be quite enough to worry about in the days to come; better relax while she still could.

Erthë

And my heart will be blacker than your eyes
when I'm through with you