The winds were angry this morning, so Iona decided she’d cut her airborne patrol short for the day. Just before Iona’s hooves reached the earth, she was caught by a great gust of wind and thrown into the branches of the tree nearest to the edge of the clearing. She let out a huff at the decidedly ungraceful landing, far from the usual for the well practiced pegasus. She gave her wings a once-over to ensure no feathers had been knocked out of place.  Content that no damage had been done, she folded her wings tightly against her sides and prepared to disappear among the thick mess of trees. However, something out of place caught her eye before her first footfall fell.

Something, it appeared, had also fallen victim to the wind.  That or her little tangle with the tree.  Iona set her lips in a firm line before stepping closer, narrowing her emerald eyes as she tried to make out what it was.  When she saw what it was, her dark lips pulled into a frown. 

A single egg alone in a nest that had evidently been dislodged from its home in the branches.  The egg looked unharmed and was a creamy white mottled with reddish-brown patches.  Iona cursed under her breath before studying the branches of the tree above, trying to discern just where the nest once sat. Maybe if she could just put it back the mother wouldn’t notice.  However when she looked back to the nest, she noticed the
“No, no, no,” the mare muttered, in a panic. “I have to put you back first!”  She looked around wildly for any larger birds, but to no avail.  This chick was hatching, and seemed quite determined to rid itself of its shell.  Iona worried if she replaced the nest back in the tree, it would simply blow right out of the branches again.  Paralyzed, the mare watched dumbly as the little bird freed itself of its shell and stared up at her with beady, golden eyes.  Iona wasn’t at all sure what she felt.  There was still the guilt and the panic - but there was something else there too. Something she didn’t understand. That confused her and made her uncomfortable. 

“Oh no, don’t look at me. I’m not your mother,” she muttered, taking a half-step back from the bird still tucked safely in its nest.  But the little bird was unrelenting and quite obviously starving. So hungry, in fact, that Iona was beginning to believe that she could feel the little bird’s hunger.  But that was absurd, so she simply brushed away the thought as nonsense.  But it did begin to dawn on her that she in no way had the capacity to take care of a baby bird but at the same time she felt herself utterly unable to abandon the helpless thing.  So she stood there entirely perplexed about how she’d gotten herself into this mess, utterly confused about what to do, and suddenly inexplicably ravenous. 

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Iona’s solitary panic didn’t last for long.  When the dark mare caught sight of her sister, she released an audible sigh of relief. She wanted to take a step closer to her twin, but still found herself unable to stray too far from the little bird for some inexplicable reason.  And she was still so hungry.  Doing her best to ignore what she couldn’t explain, she looked imploringly at her sister (failing to recognize the mirth in the lighter sibling’s eyes). 

“Aly! Thank god you’re here. I accidentally knocked the nest out of the tree and then the damn thing hatched and the thing is starving and I must have scared the mother off and I certainly don’t know what to feed it,” she says in a rush, hardly stopping to breathe, much less think about the words tumbling from her lips.  She was pleased to see her sister’s companion - glad that he wasn’t messing up her hair for once - because at least someone would have some idea what to feed this poor thing. “I know he’s hungry,” Iona said to to the little owl, infinitely appreciative of his ability to find tiny bird appropriate things and not even considering the fact that she knew, inherently, that the baby bird was both hungry and a he. She gestured with her nose for the owl to feel free to approach the nestling. 

The chick, in his nest, peeped happily at Hemlock’s offering - beady eyes zeroing in on the dragonfly.  Curiosity bloomed as he studied the larger bird, though he intermittently glanced back at the large, black mare with peeps and chirps erupting from the ball of fuzz on a regular basis. The same curiosity bloomed in Iona’s own mind, as she watched the interaction between the two avians - her brow furrowed as she struggled to process what the hell was going on. 

It seemed that they had caused quite a scene, because a filly that Iona recognizes as one of Tembovu’s children though doesn’t know by name.  The Specter is still too frazzled to greet the girl properly, but is able dip her head in some form of politeness.  The girl was also accompanied by a large bird who immediately went to the assistance of the little thing that Iona had discovered.  The chick, again, became more lively at the prospect of food, hopping to the edge of the nest.  The yet to be named osprey hopped right over to the larger avian, eager to accept the gift and unwilling to wait for permission.  Iona let out a soft snort of amusement.  Sassy little thing, she thought to herself.  As if the creature somehow managed to hear her, he turned and looked her right in the eye - letting out a string of happy sounding noises - before returning to his meal. 

Dumbfounded, the painted mare simply watched.  That was until the filly spoke again.  The girl’s words - a simple enough question - caused Iona to freeze in place.  A vacant expression crossed her emerald eyes as her mind slipped away.

Companion? The thought rattled around in Iona’s now strangely silent mind. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that this wasn’t an ordinary orphan baby bird. That it was it was a companion egg that she had unintentionally discovered. “Oh.” She said, with a vacant expression as slowly - very slowly - the pieces began to fall into place.  Green eyes remained unfocused as she slowly blinked herself back to the present - back to full consciousness.  She looked at the girl for a moment before looking down to the little bird, peering up at her with a knowing sort of glance.   “I - uh…” words failed her as her tongue grew thick in her mouth. “But - I didn’t want...”  She looked over at Aly, the panic returning, but again her gaze was drawn back to the little bird.  

“Well shit,” is what she finally settled on, the shock and disbelief still coloring her words. Well. That’s one way to welcome your companion to the world. 

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