Ever cheerful, Sindre wandered through the treacherous terrain without a care in the world. It seemed like every few yards she walked by a sandy puddle with a leg or something sticking out of it. Others might have found that creepy, but not Sindre. She found it fascinating. Walking through this place was like playing a high stakes games. All around her were the losers, the unfortunate souls too dumb and scared to free themselves. Sindre though? She was going to be a winner. She was going to cross the expanse and come out on the other side as fit as a fiddle. A particularly grisly specimen froze her in place. In the quicksand was the bloated, obviously dead corpse of a donkey jenny. Beside it, looking listless and lost, was a very small foal. Upon laying eyes on Sindre it shuffled away, but didn't go far. Its sides were caked in mud and from that small bit of information coupled with the obvious signs of struggle around the rim of the pit, it was easy to guess at what had happened. The foal had fallen in and mom had tried to save it, in the process getting trapped herself. Sindre eyed the little creature, trying to decide what the best course of action was. Even though it was more or less a meal on legs Sindre couldn't help feel sorry for it. The foal, like her, was an orphan. She knew what it was like to lose a mother. Of course she hadn't been alone, she'd had her siblings with her, but Sindre had suddenly found herself in charge and that had been just as scary. "Well, honey," she said with a sympathetic sigh, "what are we gonna do with you?" "Talk" "You" Think

we laughed at fate, and mourned her Tick-tock goes the clock, even for the Monster. It was liberating to be able to traverse a land so thoroughly fraught with dangerous pits and hungry sand, his mind working overtime to make sure he avoided the same traps that he had noticed so many others fall into. In one of the sandy puddles, a head poked out from the center, it was half rotted and the jaws gaped open with the face pointed toward one of the many plants that surrounded the pit. Flat teeth gave the animal away as an equine of some sort, and the way it was situated said the dumb creature had tried to reach the promise of food, only to struggle more and eventually die of starvation. This was all speculation, of course, but he couldn't help himself. His mind wandered, that is, until he heard a voice ring out in the eerie silence of his temporary home. "Well, honey, what are we gonna do with you?" The voice was feminine and sympathetic and roused every bit of his curiosity. What would earn that much sympathy? If it was something in a puddle the offer of help was just cruel unless the vocalist had a large stick of some kind. He moved in the direction of the voice, finding himself rooted in his path as he eyes a small donkey foal and a wolf. Glacial blue eyes scanned the area and he quickly surmised the cause of her sympathy. From the looks of the foal and the corpse in the puddle, the monster could only guess the pitiful creature was an orphan. "The kindest thing to do with it would be to eat it." Dark, smoky voice drifted to her from his small distance. He had made sure to keep away from scaring the foal or the female for that matter. "If you don't, something else will or it will die slowly. It looks too young to be weaned." The heathen kept his tone neutral, but there was still something foreboding in his tone, an easy yet cruel truth slipping between them. Light blue eyes slipped over to the foal, assessing its condition and noticing how frail it really looked. Judging by the way it seemed to wobble on its legs, the creature wouldn't last much longer anyway. It already weakened from hunger and dehydration, the bond between mother and colt so strong that the little guy couldn't walk away from the scene that spelled his end. It was sad really, but some things couldn't be helped. At this point, killing the small foal would be a mercy. Much better than having to suffer through the empty, clawing feeling of starving to death. "You." Walk. "Talk."

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"The kindest thing to do with it would be to eat it." Upon hearing these words Sindre's hackles rose and she spun to face the speaker with anger etched clearly across her face. His callousness irked her. Not because she cared deeply for the foal, but because of his choice of words given the seriousness with which she'd approached the situation. The stranger's next words tamed her anger somewhat and Sindre had to look away. As much as she hated to admit it, he spoke the truth. Sindre sighed and glanced back at Iscariot. "You're probably right," she admitted unhappily. "But..." A rather farfetched idea was growing on her. "What if I returned it to its herd? Surely its mother wasn't the only one nursing a foal." It was a long shot, and honestly a lot of work for what was essentially a meal on legs, but there was just something about it that made her root for it. She wanted the foal to make it. "Talk" "You" Think

we laughed at fate, and mourned her Tick-tock goes the clock, even for the Monster. He watched the female turn and face him with a clearly angry expression, one that almost made the monster feel guilty he had even spoken such truth. When faced with facts though, she seemed to calm herself a little and become a rational wolf again. With a sigh, she glanced back at him and he allowed a bit of empathy slip across his handsome face. "What if I returned it to its herd?" There was a clear need to keep the small donkey on his feet, but seeing the condition the foal was in and knowing the likelyhood of an equine mother nursing a colt or filly that wasn't their own...It almost broke the demon's black heart. There was so much hope in the dual colors of her eyes, his own gaze softening. "It's very likely that the herd's scent has washed out of its coat...and...well, not to dash your hope or depreciate his life, but, the chances of another jinny taking on a little one that isn't her own are very slim." One black-rimmed ear moved back on his skull as he sighed and looked at his paws, "It would also be a possibility that they would reject him because of travelling with us, he would smell of wolves. With all that being said, provided we do not spook him into an early grave...I suppose we could give it a shot. If nothing else, we will have a hard-earned dinner." The last was a joke, presented with a genuine smile and a wave of his tri-colored tail. Whether it was the way she looked at him, or the amount of will she wanted to exert over this foal's life, Iscariot found it hard to deny her. He couldn't take her dream away, and if she wanted to try and help the poor creature, 'Riot decided to help rather than hurt. While it went against his very nature, the monster sighed and grinned once more. "What do you say? Shall I escort you and the young foal to find his herd and hope they aren't all total asses?" A charmingly devilish smile broke across his face as he made his joke, hoping to pull at least a laugh from her. "You." Walk. "Talk."

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The man kept offering reasons it wouldn't work. He spoke the truth; she could see that. Everything he said was reasonable and likely, and yet... She wouldn't accept them until she saw the herd's rejection with her own eyes. Perhaps her reasons for silly and her attempts vain, but for whatever reason, she had to try. "...We will have a hard-earned dinner." At this, a ghost of a smile touched Sindre's lips but if he intended to lift her spirits he was going to have to try harder. This whole business was rather saddening. He had a point and he was trying to help and be funny, but in all honesty she didn't find the prospect of eating the little foal very appealing. Her gaze went the foal who was gently nuzzling his mother's face. Sindre couldn't think of anything sadder. It made her think of her own family and how terrible their odds had seemed in the beginning. Sindre tore her gaze from the foal as the stranger began to speak again. It took a moment for what he'd said to register. The humor was unexpected and before she could smother it in melancholy a laugh escaped her lips. She grinned at the stranger and then capitulated. "Sure, why not. I could use the help." She stepped around the pit so that she was on one side of the foal and the stranger was on the other. Maybe they could shepherd him in the right direction. It was easy to see where the rest of the herd had gone; hoof prints littered the ground around them. They all pointed east so that was where the wolves and their charge would head. Hopefully they weren't too far away. Sindre looked over the foal at the stranger. "So tell me, stranger, why help? You think it's a lost cause, no?" She shrugged. "Why not have a laugh and be on your way?" "Talk" "You" Think

we laughed at fate, and mourned her Tick-tock goes the clock, even for the Monster. Even laced with sadness, the woman's laugh was as enchanting as he imagined it would be. How odd that he want to hear her voice crack with that sound and not a scream as he killed the foal before her eyes. Still, it was a mystical sound to be sure, and he found himself wanting more of it. He felt himself move to place himself on the proper side of the donkey foal, watching to ensure he didn't spook it into an early grave. Watching the small thing nuzzle its mother was almost heart-wrenching, but he tore his gaze from it to meet the fire and ice of Sindre's sad eyes as she asked about his motives. "You." That was the reason, she was making him feel in new ways. He had never been one for sympathy or offering aid. "You're too beautiful to look that sad. We have to at least try and put a happier expression on that face." 'Riot shrugged then and looked over at her, "Normally, I would have killed the poor fellow and moved on, but...something about your sadness makes me uncomfortable, I want to help, really." He was sincere! He actually meant what he was saying, and the shock even showed on his face that he would even care. Iscariot didn't know her, or her baby ass, he only knew such a beautiful woman shouldn't be so sad. If he could do something to make her smile, he would. "You." Walk. "Talk."

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With some coaxing the sluggish foal began to move in the direction of the herd. Sindre's gaze briefly roved ahead to make sure she wasn't going to accidentally shepherd the foal into a pit. That would be just her luck. The man's frank words briefly took her aback. She side-eyed him skeptically over the foal. Sindre wasn't easily flattered. She couldn't be won over by pretty words; she was a bit too street-wise for that. She'd shed her naivety a long, long time ago. Still, she was surprised. Very surprised. The man seemed genuine and she didn't know what to make of that. Unsure of what to say, Sindre looked away and tried to gather her thoughts. If he'd been joking she'd have laughed it off, but he was serious, wasn't he? Maybe she could downplay it with humor. "So what I hear you saying," she said jokingly, "Is that I should keep making this face until the foal's back with his herd?" "Talk" "You" Think