It was difficult to remember to breathe. Onni could feel the stress pouring from Midas, wrapping itself around her chest and squeezing. The pressure of saving another, the precious life of this boy, was heavy. Cera himself was small; had he not been a resident here within the Throat for many months, the shaman would have estimated him as barely over two months. Instead, she knew he was likely coming up on the better end of a year. His limbs were thin, torso thin and fragile like the bird Lyhty she cared for. In her haste, Lyhty had been left behind, unable to clutch onto her frame and travel across the Throat with her at neckbreaking speed. They had been unable to communicate so easily these past weeks, but the healer thought little of it.

The songbird was better off avoiding the stress of this situation.

The light which envelopes the body of tiny Cera grows in intensity as the magic from the Sun grows. A ray of light, cascading from the sun above their heads, beams directly toward his body, the energy feeding the white flames in his blood as it waged a battle against the poison of d'Artagnan. Onni had never met the stallion, but she might make a point of it now, just to inform him of the grave mistake he had made. Little angered the painted mare who leaned toward peace and gentle words, but the injury of an innocent such as the green eyed boy at her feet was enough to make her blood boil. The small painted boy, Cera, would commiserate in the feeling now, she imagined. The shaman only hoped that the fire of the Sun God would offer some comfort in its warmth.

This burning was pure. It was the fire that saved the ill. If she had met with the pair in time, the magic would save him. The moments which passed now were incredibly long, much like they had been in her travel. Now, as her breath eased into long stirs, focus taking over the whole of her expression, the weariness in her limbs was growing more apparent. The shaman stands still as a statue amid the crimson dirt and dust, eyes closed, wind brushing her hair unnoticed across her forehead. The shaking in her tired limbs begins just as Cera's subsides.

Only the small voice of the child breaks her concentration. Eyelids flitter from her crystalline blue eyes as she gazes down at small emeralds peering up at her curiously. They are not the delirious eyes of the poisoned, and a massive sigh of relief shakes the cage of her chest. The light from his body seeps back toward Onni's frame, glimmering before disappearing altogether. Eyes glisten as the fear which had gripped her for what felt like days dissipates, leaving the young healer standing beside the spared boy and his father. "Thank you, God of the Sun," she whispers under her breath before Cera whispers out another broken word. Mommy? Onni smiles, unable to correct his tired thinking. Instead, she attempts to draw courage forth.

"You are a strong boy, Cera," she says sweetly, quietly. "You will regain your energy soon." Turning her head toward Midas, Onni takes another breath. "If you help get him onto my back, I will carry him to the Oasis. You have stressed your body too much already." Leaning her front end down toward the earth, one leg bent under her to support the slant, she awaits the addition of a small, precious parcel upon her back.
""