A hoarse call, and a flash of ghastly white lit by the moonlight; sharp talons and a sharp beak snapped and clicked, blue-barred wings flailing and icy eyes staring. Stella was not the only bird to have caught scent of the rabbit's fresh corpse, and Irma had both the guts and the talons to take it. Size was on her side compared to the younger bird, and ruthlessly she aimed to take the carcass from right under the other's nose. If unchallenged, she would simply take it, and fly off a little ways to enjoy it alone.

But it was impossible that one would come without the other; glimpses entered his mind, from the breath-hitching dive, the ground looming closer in bits and pieces, and then the three shapes as the owl's keen gaze took in them all. A small, gangly bird, which seemed to be Irma's immediate concern, and then one oddly colored mare, and one ugly mare.

Wait- the hell?

It rang of memory, something he ha seen before. Racking his brain he came up with a grumpy, old unicorn, who had shunned their attempts at help and kindness. He had had the same ancient look, sunken sides and eyes, thin, drab mane, though no bony, gnarled wings protruding from his shoulders. The other had legs that seemed nearly black in the monochrome light of night, fading into a body he assumed was no usual shade. Was that a flash of a horn? Irma's glance had been too brief and at too odd a perspective, and he didn't feel like bothering her to puppet for him. He had to check it out himself, and with a shrug of his shoulders he set out at a long-legged trot, eating up the distance between them.

With the moon shimmering upon his alabaster hide coupled with the moon-shadow lying across his eyes he seemed truly ghastly, something from the other world come to haunt again. Silver rays glinted coldly off the frosty tip of his horn, and when eventually his seemingly blind eyes found the pair, he saw that one was, indeed, a unicorn. Both were mares, unless his nose deceived him, but only one was of interest to him. Ignoring both birds and the dead rabbit he dipped his head slightly at the unicorn, wondering about what shade the sun would reveal her to be. Gray? No, it had to be tinted with something else — something more lavender, perhaps? "What an odd little gathering," he remarked coolly as his gut turned at the sight of the Pegasus. She was truly a wreck, old and wretched; would it be considered a mercy of he killed her here and now? Or would they know? Would they come for him and his kin, screaming their curses and forcing their brands and labels upon him? He could not risk everything for the sake of mercy. His silver eyes swept onto the unicorn; the quicker they got away from the Pegasus, the better. Mauja was not as stable as he had been, and he knew that the longer he lingered, the harder it would be for him to hide his revulsion. Age was no stranger to him, but she seemed sick in some way.

Or it was just what he wanted to believe.

"Need a home, darling?" he asked the mare with the painted grin in a murmur.

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