Beldam is only a faint shadow of what she will one day become - when the ridges along her spine become sharp and defined, her teeth grow to become more pointed, and her leathery wings grow strong enough to carry her across the skies. For now she is just a filly, wandering away from her mother, lured by the movement of small green and gold… creatures. The way they flutter around inspires some deep-rooted instincts inside of her to hunt. Her prehensile tail, already tipped with a lethal edge, twitches behind her in excitement as a smile brightens those dark eyes framed in swirling blue-green galaxies.

Her dark hooves trample over lush clovers as she stalks. One day she’ll learn she can survive on both plants and flesh - but though she is learning to hunt, it is all still a game. Only poor luck on the behalf of her prey would turn her clumsy attempts into success at this age.

This does not deter her from trying, however. There is fun in the chase, in the thrill of that moment that hovers between success and failure.

Though she tries her best - the small shapes of the winged creatures elude her before finally disappearing into flower patches with petals that span wide across the rainbow.

A snort of frustration escapes the filly, followed by a keening, clicking call - as though beckoning her prey closer could do the trick. This time when her tail flicks behind her, it's with frustration and the movements are harsh and quick. The sharp edge of the knife it bears slices some of the shamrock leaves off the low-growing plants, scattering them to the wind.

Beldam turns her head towards the greeting, her frustration over not being able to eat the little fairies dissipating as the prospect of something new presents itself. She moves into the grass, the blades tickling the parts of her that are not covered in what will one day be hard armour. Her shoulders and neck clear the grass, giving her a good view of the pair of foals as she approaches.

Her black eyes blink, not giving away any thoughts or expression as they do.

It is fascinating, seeing others her size. But so, so different than her. The accents of fire do not alarm her - her mother is haloed in it too. What alarms her most is how… bare they look. She has seen that many of the other horses here look like that too - and it still feels strange to her, after having briefly been able to believe everyone would look like her and her mom.

“Hi.”

Her long tail moves slowly behind her, causing the grass there to wave as it brushes against the blades. She peers at them both, tilting her head, before asking “Do you guys want a snack? I’m trying to catch one.”

They don't need to know she has been unsuccessful so far - and they do not look as though they are equipped to hunt very well on their own.

Beldam eyes the colt that seems to be hiding behind his sister, wondering what his deal was. She attempts to smile at him, but she has silver, sharp teeth and it is unlikely that this gesture gives off the impression that she is hoping for. Nor does the deep black accurately display her delight at communicating to horses her own age - especially those that also are interested in hunting.

She had been trying for a rabbit, but that was tricky enough just on her own - the three of them were surely going to spook those sneaky little critters without even trying. And they were fast. Squirrels were another favourite attempt too - though they too easily escaped upwards into trees. Not fully understanding how her wings worked, Beldam assumed one day she’d be able to fly up after them - not realizing that she’ll be far too big to do such things once she is actually able to fly.

Not to mention, she’ll require far bigger meals than squirrels at that point.

But the filly’s words inspire her and she brightens up at the novelty that they present. So she chirps with delight - “I’ve never had a frog before. Let’s try that.” She’d seen the leaping little things and they absolutely qualified as a nice, bite-sized snack.