[private] hear the rumble in the cage; Sam pony

[dear]

careful, child, light the fuse and get away—

The herd had all given a violent start, scattering, and she among them. A slight, fawn-spotted thing, sprinting hard away from a threat she had not seen but knew to fear simply because the rest of them did. Heart pounding, she runs. They all run. Most of them make for the edge of the wood, the cover of tree and shadow, and she makes to follow.

(She is not a deer, Dear, though she resembles one. Her predators are not the same as theirs. Even the monstrous things tend to be equine at their hearts, their cores, and they do not present the same danger to other equine things. But she counts herself among them, the deer, thinks that she identifies with them more than Beqanna’s other inhabitants. And yet, she too is an equine at her core. So she does not need to fear things the way they do but she has not quite yet worked out how to stop.)

She is not the one being pursued, Dear, but she flees all the same.
Until she hears the beginnings of some tremendous crash and she slows, stops, turns toward the source of the sound. 

She watches, cringing away from the perceived pain of it, as the dragon crashes back to earth. There is a moment of complete stillness as she watches, heart hammering in the cage of her ribs. She draws in a quivering breath, trembling with the adrenaline surging through her. The deer are prey, she knows, but she also knows that she is not. So, she takes a cautious step toward him. 

“Hello?” she calls out, “are you okay?” He had been in pursuit of a creature she considers family, she should hold a grudge, but she is a kind thing at the root of it. Dear does not know how to hold a grudge. 

— cause happiness throws a shower of sparks

@Roué