Even in the face of an inferno, the fiery warrioress had not yielded. She had stood with legs firmly planted in the sands and refused to give ground, she had not stepped up for selfish, greed riddled reasons. Where had they been? Where had that passion been as they had all loitered quietly in the tides of silence and suffocating stagnancy? She hadn't taken it to heart, not our of pride, but out of a deeply rooted sense of loyalty and love she held for each one of her herd members, whether they in turn returned that to her.

Now as activity raged upon the sands, seemingly spawned to life in the furious cry of her own rage and determination, she took the time to quietly reflect, or as quietly as one such as her could manage. A star which burned without physical flames in the setting sun, beneath the glittering canvas of twilight's first sprawling tendrils of night. Her wings tucked against her hide and her eyes fixated upon dune after dun, her mind soaring a thousand feet above upon wings of valiant flame and heart fire.

Her children were safe, nestled within the safety of the cayon hollow which she had made the nest for them. Sweet words spared for her most delicate Jude, who may as well sprang new life at the touch of his hooves and the soft beat of his gentle heart. When she gazed upon his face, just as she had gazed up Bryon's and before them Verro and Tasokh — that which she burned for became so much more. Stern but loving words were given with a raised brow to Byron, whose mischievous grin and attempted summoning a positively glowing mental image of halo above his downy head were met with a snort.

The grains of sand ticked slowly and then faster than the gallop she called her own, her steps obscured and addled by the train of her which followed in her wake. It had grown long and unruly since her return to Helovia, what had fallen in already long and wild waves now dragged and billowed in the sand and winds — a further testament to the time she had spent making her home here.

Nephele's thoughts were abruptly interupted by the sound of something hitting the cooling sands with a dull thud, an ear swiveled and her head followed suit inquisitively. A withered tree, she spied, it's leaves long since shed and bark white with sunbleaching met her in return. The remains of a nest, ruined by caustic winds and heat rested in one of it's splintered branches. What had fallen out of it then? Her mind whispered, surely something so ruined wouldn't have been used, unless it had been abandoned and simply left to the elements — along with something that might or might not have been placed there.

Curiosity got the better of her and she moved toward the mound of sand beneath the white tree, and was met by an egg. A brow raised as a rumbled snort escaped her, a lonely egg abandoned to whatever ill fate awaited those unable to defend themselves. She knew well the tales nature and the way of the wild world, but then, this would surely die without intervention or a careful wing to at least see it somewhere safe, she had a chance to give whatever was inside one last shot. She was many things, explosive, temperamental and stubborn — she was not heartless however —  and so she extended a wing to try and scoop the egg up and take it somewhere safe.

Nothing could of prepared her for the crack which erupted from the egg the moment her feather so much brushed against it's pale visage. Her wing pulled back with a start, feathers ruffled on end while she regarded it with surprise and caution. The cracking stopped and her ears flipped quizzically forward as her head lowered toward the curious egg once more. Her whiskered muzzle was barely a breath from touching the smooth surface before another crack came, a small taloned claw unfurled toward her. Normally her head would of jerked back with a snorted noise of surprise, but something had pinned her down. An invasive presence, something which she'd never felt before had slipped into her mind. Willing her to stay put as more and more pieces of the shell fell away, eyes wide and nostrils flared, she could only stand there as whatever it was made it's way into the world.

And into her life.


She's heard the tales about companions, and she had never given it much thought. Until now. It didn't take the most intelligent horse to figure out what had just happened. The niggling voice of hunger and the demand that she stay put didn't come from her belly or her own mind, but the little bird — now that the egg had cracked away to reveal the mass of feathers — and it's bold personality. It's bold personality persisted, for the chick slowly with a determined look upon it's feathered features, wriggled out of it's home and took flight. Up on shaky wings until it landed with a weightless thump upon her withers, earning it — no he, the correction giving with a deft and uncomfortable mental jab — a disgruntled snort from the warrioress.

"I suppose I can't get rid of you now." She said with a defeated but amused smirk, answered with a chirp from the mottled vulture. She had seen his kind before, magnificent, large creatures who fed on the bone marrow of carrion picked clean. They were beautiful, and they were deadly.


"I think I'll call you Atreus." She murmured after a silence, careful in her decision as a hundred different names sprang to her mind. Some from her travels, but this was a name picked because it resonated close to home. Of her mothers fabled stories of the land she had hailed from before moving to this land, the very essence of history written upon her bones. Yes, Atreus would do nicely, the two of them decided.