The pair stalked through the desert like predators searching for prey, but there was something slightly different. Xira's normally confident and cocky attitude was replaced with one more subdued- her head hung in what appeared to be shame, and Kye's narrow gaze gave off a dark and threatening aura. It was obvious, even from the distance that would separate them from any other living things in this dead land, that they would be best left alone. While Xira struggled with her feelings for Andash, whatever they were, if she could even call them feelings, Kye perched atop her alula and peered down as if she owned the ground her bonded walked upon.

Xira had recently become aware that her falcon's attitude was no longer welcome. There was something strange and distancing about the way the small bird had been acting as of late. It seemed that gaining the ability to speak her mind, no matter how broken her words came out, had brought her a confidence she didn't deserve. Xira found herself blocking out the falcon's insults, and missing the comfort of her appraisal. Then again, what had the bird ever applauded her for but being rough and cruel? Was that really an attitude deserving of a reward?

With a heavy sigh, the chestnut mare picked up her pace and trotted along the oasis' edge, searching for something, or perhaps someone to occupy her mind. She needed a distraction from all of this; a way to forget these complicated feelings. It was strange how suddenly one appeared, really. She saw a body fall to the earth heavily, throwing up sand in its wake, and instantly her intrigue sparked and her melancholy dissipated. With a whistle, Xira sent her falcon ahead, not thinking of Kye's natural instinct as she commanded the bird.

By the time Xira reached the unicorn filly's side, Kye had already landed atop her and started picking curiously at the tight flesh around the ribcage. It was clear that this filly had been wandering for some time, perhaps in search of water. Tourists, Xira thought with disgust before extending a wing to shake Kye off of the body. With confidence, the chestnut roan placed a heavy white hoof on the filly's form and shook, testing whether or not she was alive. If not, well... then one less fool in the world.

Fascinating how quickly the mind can turn to bitterness.

Beneath her the filly groaned and shifted as her eyes fluttered open, and Xira became aware of the fact that she had truly struck fear into the filly's heart. She took her hoof off of the child's side and planted it firmly in the sand before her before huffing with a disappointed sigh and letting the scene unfold before her. Kye, forced off of her perch, had landed instead in the crook of her master's wings and curled to rest between the weathers contentedly. The day had been long and Kye had little interest in foolish fillies.

Sleep, Xira heard the little falcon murmur sleepily into her thoughts. Likely she'd be awake again soon, but for now she'd poked and prodded the child and thus deemed her boring- an exhausted form of entertainment that she could not eat, and was thus useless. Sleep would be the only thing to stave off the inevitable boredom, and Xira was more than happy to be free of her companion's chittering for a moment.

She turned her attention back down to the filly, who had somehow begun to cry, and whose tears were hitting the sand in soft, pathetic streams. With a soft nicker of displeasure, Xira found herself curling her lip and tossing her head with distaste. Why was the foal so silent, so pathetic? She'd been found and perhaps even saved, now was the time to thank her for the deed and then move along and out of Xira's life.

She didn't want anyone in her life. It was scary enough that she was perhaps making a friend in Andash, though she was at least satisfied that it was nothing more- she did not need a filly trailing after her like a child. Kye already filled that role, and besides, she hated fillies. Hated fillies. They were always foolish and innocent when they needed to be strong; unable to stand up for themselves simply because they're mothers had spent more time loving them and sheltering them than teaching them.

"Get up, stop crying, and tell me your name," the chestnut roan commanded roughly and with impatience lacing her words. No, she had no fondness for fillies.