Out of the frying pan and into the fire. She ended her little visit with the two youngsters who discovered her trying not to die on the bank of the river south of Hyaline. She dove into the forest and stuffed herself into a fallen log to sleep off her pain and mend herself from her exciting trip back into the real world. She slept until the next day, waiting before the sun was at its Zenith. Creeping carefully through the forest she feasted on raspberries and nipped the ends off tender green grasses and before sunset she’s reached the edge of Loess and finally allows herself to step out of the undergrowth and breathe a sigh of relief.

She could have gone home, to her brothers and Pangea but ever since waking up on the riverside with those two other youngsters looking down at her she had wanted only to be in Loess with Malone. Her brothers might have comforted her in some way but Malone is always better at knowing how to help her feel better when she could only stubbornly try to bulldoze through her hurts. There is no pushing past being smaller that a fox.

Like the one she smells in the forest behind her, and though Morgayne’s eyes roll and she sees nothing at all she hurtles herself into the clearing along the border of Loess and struggles frantically through the long grass. It’s hard to move through the tight thatch of summer-yellow grass but she Morgayne pushes forward, stumbling and getting caught on the reedy stalks. She pulls free and bursts with a tumble into the long blue shadow of something with huge wings, looming over her.

With a strangled yip Morgayne  drops back on her rear and flails to her feet again before realizing that the blue eyes looking down at her belong to Malone and her heart is pounding when she sobs his name, in her small voice it sounds only like a gasp. She does not like to be so frantic. “Malone! Its you!” She is so very small, not even tall enough for the tips of her black ears to reach his knees. Backing away a little, steadying herself as she tucks her tiny self back amongst some of the grass Morgayne holds her head high, tipped back to look steadily up at her friend. “Don’t laugh.” Though she will forgive him if he does, it would be funny if it hadn’t heretofore been so terrifying.

Malone’s feathers brush her shoulders and within that shelter he presses his lips to her small dark forehead. It is a magic that Morgayne has never experienced. Her own mother has probably never kissed anyone’s forehead, and the brothers who are raising her are much more likely to give her a fond kick. A fretful hiccup shakes the girls frame just once but that kiss impresses a safety on her frantic little heart. “I was so scared.” Her shame is heavy but the words are very soft and she will bite him so hard if he ever mentions it...but by now she knows better than to worry that he will.

The boy lies down on the ground beside her and she paces right up to his face. Malone’s beautiful wings shelter them and in spite of herself she smiles (little fangs flashing) at the way the light filters through feathers and dust around the two of them. The smile melts away into confused alarm. “A genie took Meraxes’ eye!? What do you mean you got it back? How did you carry it?” Ever concerned with the practicalities despite the fact that she is the size of a god-damned cottontail. “No it was one of those fairies. Then a bird tried to eat me.” She hasn’t given much thought to how long she might continue to be at risk of being lunch or getting stepped on my some idiot. Turning in a circle Morgayne looks at her pink sides and inspects her small self. “Not for very long I think, they didn’t say it would be forever and fairies probably have to tell you if they are shrinking you forever.” There is a touch of alarm in her features though, because she does not know this for sure.

Morgayne inches closer to the boys face so that she can press her fanged muzzle to the side of it.  “I never noticed what a big head you have.” She says primly, and then remembering that might come across as rude even if she meant only to be observant she adds.“I like it.”

Thinking of Malone challenging a genie that steals eyes from babies puts a concerned dip in her brows and the boy can no doubt hear her alarmed thoughts. She looks him over (what she can see) with flashing pink and blue eyes but finds nothing amiss, not outwardly. Though neither of them can know it Malone will not be able to hide his missing heart from her forever. She would feel its absence if she looked... but he is whole, perfect and beautiful and so there is no reason for the healer to feel for what is amiss.

“You fought a genie.” Bluntly, though she purses her lips and looks at him in silence not quite sure she believes it. Maybe he means something else by “challenged”, so she doesn’t argue but still narrows her eyes suspiciously at his bright smile. “It’s good you didn’t have to carry an eye.” A sigh, amused acceptance, a flick of her black tail against the pink of her flanks. “Maybe you could have put it someplace though, instead of in Meraxes’ head.” Thoughtful, if a little morbid.“He could have spied on people. If I got one of Hatchet’s I would put it in a tree.” Probably a Sylvan tree to spy on Jackel for them, that way Starsin wouldn’t catch her creeping around in Sylva and ask her any weird mom questions. Morgayne doesn’t know what weird mom questions would be but she doesn’t want Malone’s mom asking any all the same.

Poor sweet Malone’s head is no bigger than it should be but Morgayne’s perspective is quite altered by her greatly diminished stature. Wiggling obnoxiously beneath the boy’s jaw Morgayne turns her head to nibble at his face just beyond the corner of his mouth. “I’m fine here on the ground with you.” She chirps this stubbornly, even though the words themselves are strung together like something sweet. She may bristle a bit but the tiny filly is very content to be safe here we him. Malone may still a boy he feels strong and safe to his vicious little friend.
“...but” Curving her neck around the side of his face and looking up at the feathered shelter of his wings. “Where would we go if you could fly me someplace?” Where would he choose, she wonders? Why? What kind of places did a winged boy go without his four feet to limit him?

The sunlight is aging from orange to red, and Morgayne will not go home to Pangea until she is big again. Another might be homesick, afraid not to return to their own bed and the keeping of their own guardian's but Morgayne knows no such concerns. Each day sees the black and pink girl writing her own rule book. Right down to how one should ask to stay over. Tipping her face up she gives Malone’s cheek a poke with her fangs. “I’m staying with you. Where do you sleep?”