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       I trot along the shore of the lake, watching with a skeptical eye the shining water that glances off of it. How dare the God of the Earth make a false representation of my Sun God’s gift to Helovia? I raise my head to the sky, the true realm of my god, and feel the rays of the sun touch my magic, as I absorb it into me, power illuminating my ankh marking. My tawny coat glows in the reflection of the water and my blue eyes sparkle with energy. I swish my tail over the reflection, laughing as the shimmering water splashes a small frog scampering along the shore. I slowly lower myself to the ground, stretching my face forward to drink, carefully nosing the frog to the side. He jumps across the land, leaving me as everyone else has done. I bitterly remember my mother, leaving me because she thought she had produced a freak with a white splotch on my face.

She did not deserve me anyway. She had no idea that I would become an informant in a wonderful herd, and she was missing out on so much. I snort in annoyance and flick my tail as my black mane and the former turn to flames. I do this to spite my incompetent mother. I had achieved great things, and she would never know. It serves her right, the entitled bitch. I sigh and stand, walking over to a nearby tree. Hesitantly, I swish my tail against a low branch, imagining it bursting into flame and crumbling to ash. Immediately on contact, my vision is in front of me, and ashes of leave and branch fall to the ground. I smirk at this amazing power, courtesy of the Order of the Sun, the place that I found when the Throat and Ra took me in. I was lucky to have found the Throat, when my scumbag mother left me, staying only because my father loved his little Mesir.

I tenderly remember the bits and pieces I have retained of my time with my father. I knew him briefly, before he died. He had loved the sunlight, always playing with me in the light, commenting on the beautiful sunshine. That was what inspired me to turn to the God of the Sun in my loneliness. I sigh and flick my tail to return to my black locks. Company was overrated anyway.

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       My head snaps up suddenly as I hear hoof beats coming my way. I snort irritably. Company is not what I want right now. My solitude is my own choice, due to my faith in the one god everyone else unrightfully despised. The hoof beats become closer and I lift my head, a scowl clear on my face as I watch a silver grullo stallion approach, his silver eyes scanning over my in a way that felt deprecating. I stand to my tallest and look at him with accusatory ice in my eyes. He seems the type to mess around with an attractive mare like myself, but little does he know I am not a mare to be messed with. I flick my tail, my black mane bursting into flames, and crackling like a whip. I swish my fiery locks behind me and make sure to brush the ground with harmful intent, watching as the earth burns a darker color.

I look again at the stallion, with a more critical eye. He seems quite attractive, with large vulture wings that match his dark coat. Then again, I despise dark coats. Still, a bit of stringing and teasing sounds fun as I change my scowl to a playful smirk. I saunter up to him working around him in a circle, keeping my locks aflame. A bit of fear in another is always something to look forward to. I flick my tail up onto his flank, calming the vicious flames, trailing them teasingly along the icky dark coat. My, we are a contrast, with my alluring tawny coat and his dark silver and black appearance. No, this is not blasphemy to the Order, simply a bit of fun for a mare who is bored without people to tease. It is not like I think his dark locks lovely; they still disgust me. So unnatural, when I am so lovely, with my striking eyes and white ankh marking.

I finish my circle and come to a halt in front of him. I flick my tail once more, returning to the black mane and tail I sport, tossing my dark waves flirtatiously. I ever so slightly bat my eyes, inching my face a bit closer to his dark mask. “Mesir. That’s me. And you are?”

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       I laugh at the stunned look on the stallion’s face, and laugh harder when he tries acting tough. He has nothing on me. I snort when he calls me a filly, using the oldest insult in the book to “hurt me”. What a fool he must think I am, and what a fool he is. I plot my words carefully, not at all wanting to waste my breath on this jackass of a stallion, who had not even the common courtesy to tell me his name. I sidle up next to him near the water, and step in, feeling the coolness flood over my hooves. I innocently drink for a bit, until I look up at him mischievously and turn spontaneously, water splashing up with intent to hit his form. I watch the droplets fall with a giddy feeling in my stomach at annoying another. I look up at him coyly, saying a single word, “Oops.” I shrug and walk all the way out of the water, the hot Tallsun instantly drying my tan pelt.

My blue eyes glitter with amusement at the dark stallion, thinking he was better than me. I am Mesir, for Sun God’s sake, a well-known Dragon’s Throat informant, also certified bitch. I am always ready to use my certification, as well as my degree in the language of sarcastic insults. I smirk. I am pretty fucking amazing, if I do say so myself. I laugh again at the petty stallion, who seems so irritated by the wonderfulness of me. “Oh, honey, please. You? I could do better.” I flounce around him in a mock childlike manner, showing him what a real filly was like.

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       I laugh at the stallion’s weakness, when he slams like a coward back to the ground. I figure it is the fact that I am a mare and he thinks I am intimidated by simple rearing. He was in for a surprise when he figured out that I am not a sissy filly. The way his eyes roamed my sand-colored coat disturbs me and I flip my mane, making it flame menacingly. This dark ass of a pegasus would not be courting me anytime, ever. I aim a splash of flame to at his ugly dark coat, hoping to burn him in the slightest.

The stallion is irritating the fuck out of me, so I wander off down the shore of the lake, swishing my tail attractively behind me. Though I am disgusted by this stallion, I enjoy a good flirt and intend for this to be one. I listen intently to hear the sound of hooves clomping clumsily after me, as I know I am lovely enough to follow. I never have doubted my level of attractiveness, and knew it never to fail me. This stallion was already falling and he would likely keep going, right into my trap. I smirk, loving this plan, not wanting to wait to see his heartbroken figure slump and glide sadly away from my own. I laugh at my own plans, ready to play my favorite game.