------" Tares "------

Loneliness has lured me from the threshold and a faint longing to find the corpse of my father has dragged me further into the depths of this unknown land. I have muttered prayers beneath my breath to the gods of light and fire with every heavy step I have taken, feeling the weight of the earth beneath me. My wings have remained hidden for days now- I seem to lack the energy to take flight, or the longing to see the sky that I had once always harbored.

Perhaps now that the dream of seeing it with him is forever lost, I too am beginning to feel the same. For what is my purpose here? What is my tie to this land? I have no forged relationships or bonds, no one to care for, and certainly nothing to love. No, I am alone.

At least, this is how I have been feeling. But there is something about the egg, radiating with a pale heat, seeming to quiver with cold even beneath the unbearable heat of this never ending Tallsun. My ashen body bends at swollen knees to greet the egg, the barrier between its inhabitant and new life, this horrible, cruel life, and with every pulsating vein, with every slight shift in its movement, I feel its pain. I feel the cold.

For the first time in days my wings outstretch and the feather in my mane bursts into a bright white flame. The black sinews of my mane fall across the egg's pale surface as my wings stretch over it protectively. With soft yellow eyes inherited from my father, I gaze upon its seemingly breathing form. The flames of the phoenix curl up from my back and gently cover the egg, warming it, bringing it closer to me instinctively. Perhaps it is not my place to do this... perhaps it is no ones. But if this is not my duty, what is?

"Speak"

------" Tares "------

The sound of my flame becomes a part of my entity, and the silence that surrounds the egg and I seems stifling. My graceful head lowers to rest beside the glowing life as it emanates a faint heat and light that seems to blend with the gaping hole made in the earth's crust. I hold no fear of the heat of Helovia's heart, but I'm certainly not eager to make my way closer to it.

I shift my body to its side and let my forelegs curl around the egg now that I am sure I am alone, and let my senses dull with a false sense of security. My tail lies flat against the ground, and the long silky hairs of my beard grow clogged with the ash that has come to surround me. I have stopped focusing on keeping the flame from spreading- at this entrance to the center of the earth, the land is used to the fire anyhow.

And so, it seems, are the creatures. For just as I lay my head I hear a rustling from behind, and become aware of a being that seems undaunted by the flames of my wings. My weak hocks ache and protest as I attempt to lift even my thin frame up upon them, and thus my rising appears feeble. Yet I remain curled protectively around the egg, and my wings don't even dare to flicker as they act as a barrier. My tail lashes suddenly and wildly up from the ground to strike out at the source of the sound, and with wide, yellow eyes and a curved neck, I stretch to gain sight of the threat. I let out a dry and hollow neigh, a warning to the creature to leave us in peace, and feebly kick up dust with a cleft hind hoof. No, it is the whip of my tail that poses the largest threat to this creature- fast and firm, it strikes without mercy, and I'm ashamed to think that I may have learned anything from my mother.

[Eee, thanks so much for this opportunity admins! Am I just protecting the egg for now, or hunting? I'm a little unsure because of the new companion type, and I don't know how it works.]

"Speak"

------" Tares "------

My initial response upon hearing the shriek of the mongoose hitting the flame is horror. Even in an act of defense I have killed, and having never killed before, I feel a strange, empty feeling well up within me. It is as if I have lost all sense of honor and dignity with merely a strike of my tail and the death cry of a predator. Protection was never meant to harm- by it's very nature as a defensive art it is meant to keep one out of harm's way. No, all. Even as the egg pulses with warmth under the crook of my knee, I feel wretched and wicked. I feel as if I am entirely to blame for the accidental death.

And then a wild thought crawls from the depths of my failing conscience and creeps into the corner of my thoughts. Doe the mongoose's life even matter? It was vacant and surely pointless- could such a creature even contain an intelligent thought? I begin to wonder why life is so highly valued if it can be taken so swiftly and undeservedly from the brave. There are those who have done great services to those in their life, and there are those that are, perhaps, dispensable. I wonder which one I am- I wonder which this damned egg even is.

But no, even if I feel the darkness of injustice and imbalance that presides over this twisted world I live in, I feel a connection to the fire within the fragile shell. In that moment, however... all else seems unimportant. If life could be taken from my father, why not from those less honorable, who intend to harm?

Why not from the vulture that seeks my prize?

My wings rise up and create a vast curtain over myself and the egg as the vulture dives in seemingly slow motion, and for the first time, I put all my energy into making the fire burn dangerously. The bird certainly won't make it past my wings unsinged.

[Awesome, thanks.]

"Speak"

------" Tares "------

The vulture is smart, but I find myself unfazed by the fact that it turned away from my flame. I wonder if I would have truly cared so little if it had flown straight to its death, or if this is all a lie I tell myself to make myself feel stronger. I am certain only of the fact that I long to protect the egg, perhaps solely for the comfort it brings me to know I can save something innocent in this wretched world. My flames flicker back down towards the egg to bring it warmth once more, and my yellow gaze focuses upon the egg itself and its immediate surroundings. The presence of the threat appears, for now at the very least, to be diminished. All that remains is a little bug, covered in blinking black eyes.

All I can think is how hideous it is. It seems to blink at me with purpose and meaning. It sneaks closer as if it carries malicious intent, and I watch it lazily. Certainly it can do no harm to the egg.

But then the pincers open up, and as small as the bug is, I feel it need not wander so close to my charge. I lift a cleft hoof and strike it down with deadly accuracy, intent to keep the bug away from the egg. If it dies, so be it- what use is a bug to this world after all?


"Speak"