This boy didn’t realize just how fucked up everything was; it was as if my world had been spun on its axis much too fast. I didn’t ask to be sent to this messed up piece of land. I half expected a swarm of mighty beasts to come blazing into the field at any moment; shattering the peace and quiet. Ah, just the idea made me want to giggle uncontrollably—it would be what they deserved. What all things deserved for the great injustice that was dealt to our homeland. Again, this territory had no business thriving when another was on the brink of total extinction.

Before I could really lay into the boy a familiar set of beats caught my attention. I knew their pattern and had even felt the sting of their owners teeth upon my rump on occasion (not an unpleasant thing might I add). Bottomless orbs glanced up, my attention momentarily shifting—what heck was she doing here? Wait...if the ash kicker was here, did the rest of our swarm get sent? My gaze shifted back to the cherub brat, "Midas. Fancy meeting you here."

I huffed and simply replied a gruff, “Cassiopeia.” We had thrived on the same territory, with others—a small close nit group. One of the last that remained free, and that freedom was sorely won. The remaining Pegasus were scattered across the northern winds—either held at breeding farms for dragons, or kept as slaves by the brutes who bore horns.

The child seemed to have grown a little set of balls, he rises from a cringing position with storm clouds filtering across those emerald eyes. "Do not slander the gods!” Oh great, here we go, shortly after he says ‘do not’, mind flares and behind my eyes is a vision of red. His blood spilled across the ground. Yellow ivory’s grind together till it creates such a pressure upon my teeth that is almost hurts. How dare he raise his voice at me?! The little whelp!

Our law held me back. Perhaps it was the only code we followed, but we had been raised to follow it to a tee. Never injure or kill a fellow Pegasus; there simply wasn’t enough of our kind left to go around—so to save the few that remained our leaders had created this creed to that stallions and mares alike wouldn’t go bashing in each other’s ears.

But the law says nothing about not knocking insolent little whelps back into the dark ages. This milk sucker wouldn’t last two seconds in front of a dragon. My wings stretch to their limit, to mirror his own showing; this in turn made my bulk stretch and I’m told appear more intimidating. Apparently the child also knew my….. whatever she was. “Cassiopeia.” He uttered, my eyes shift to her expectantly. "I'd get outta here real quick, boy. Mr. Loud Mouth here gets real grumpy when he doesn't have his naps.”

Ignoring her nickname I retort, “Scaring off children isn’t nice……though this brat seems to know your name?” Instead of running off as suggested the child starts to speak again, this time addressing my question. "I call you father because you are the exact replica of him, down to the collar.” Normally I might have laughed and pushed this notion aside, but something about his wavering tone and broken notes made me grow still—and dead silent.

What was this? Before I could ask, he takes off….of course. “See what you did, you frightened him away,” Accusingly I peer at her with silted eyes and a furrowed brow, “Just when it was getting interesting.