» every broken promise

Zahra & Ilham

It was pride that turned angels into devils

Without a lot of effort, the painted mare who had spent thus, far a very antisocial existence, was able to fall back into the comfort of seclusion and shove out the pain that the external world (and its ludicrous inhabitants), seemed so determined to inflict. Even as the crowd that way gathered, Zahra ignored them simply, plainly, concentrating her energy and emotion into the monster of a Lord before her - as it were, a very small part of her was eagerly anticipating the cataclysmic death of the silly child who apparently and so acceptedly, wanted to disobey the very easiest of instructions. 

‘Don’t knock over the bonelights…’

“Or touch the water,” Ilham promptly added for the sake of accuracy. 

Zahra nodded. ‘Do as you are told, or…’

It seemed to both that there were too many of Helovia’s spawns in this fresh start to life anyway (she had never denied that she herself, only contributed to that number). Golden eyes traced the path of the engorged river all the way into the north until it vanished under the same wall of black fog which had before veiled the very location she now stood upon. As her wondering gaze returned, she studied these bonelights, increasingly curious as to what it all meant. 

It was at that time that a voice piped up beside her, and for a moment, Zahra just stood there frozen; staring straight ahead.

“Where did…?” The winged mare shook her head, unable to answer her bonded’s silent question, and she felt almost dismayed that the stranger had picked the same - set apart - position as she. At last her pale face turned left, and the same amber eye studied the (startlingly attractive), golden child; the colourful, earthen gaze that looked back. "Uhm…" she hummed quickly through her nostrils, pensively, if for nothing else but to fill in the gap while her thoughts collected from those bitter recesses in her mind. 

The other… she’d already turned back to the river. For a second the strange-looking cat-bird, stretching upon that sun-kissed spine below, shed a look that almost completely mirrored the bemused nature of the older girl's thoughts; then drawing a long, slow breath, Zahra too returned her focus to the unquestionably peculiar scene. 

"He's Kisamoa…" she pointed out first (it felt like a reasonable, comfortable place to start). This was a mare who liked spiders, pretty things and being alone - she wasn’t articulate, or witty or even very smart. "And he wants us to stay out of the water," which was gushing by, most uninvitingly. Then she made a slight gesture to the clean ivory stake and it's pretty glowing flower perched on top, "the bonelights… He said don’t touch those either." Quickly her jaw fastened the blunt molars within, tightly together, and she shifted with some wariness to view the filly’s reaction, to see if she would lash out just like the other idiots had.

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