Storyline credit to The Son of Summer Stars by Meredith Ann Pierce
She woke to the gentle gray of dawn, nestled into a burrow formed of long grasses stomped flat to her impression. As she raised her head, only half awake, Cavni smelled her mother's scent close by52; but it was cold. Her dam had gone night past, to find a new herd all her own, and to let her daughter work things out on her own. Sighing, Cavni braced her forelegs and heaved herself up, then shook dead grasses from her coat. Blinking sunlight from her eyes, she sniffed her mother's trail once more, and turned her head to look where her dam had gone. Then, snorting, she turned the other way.
The summer grass was warm and sweet beneath her hooves, though she paused to knock sod from between the two cloven toes in her hooves with the horn upon her brow, and the ground compact enough she could trot without a jarring step. She moved up to a hill and paused at the brink of it, looking down at the Mare's Back which was her home: a vast, rolling plains topped by long golden grasses. Somewhere in the grasses crouched pards, the silent predators; and serpents, who struck when least expected; and above her circled a kite with its sharp eyes and sharper call. The kite suddenly dove down, wings folded to its back, and vanished in the grasses. Cavni watched, the wind whipping at her forelock, as the kite emerged moments later, a tiny serpent clutched tightly in its beak.
A whinny and the thunder of hoof beats turned Cavni's head, and the young mare pricked her ears. A tiny herd of unicorns were charging off behind her, but one of them was pausing, and this one was a heavy set blue roan with a shock of wild white mane. This one slowed down, looked at her, and whistled, pricking its ears for her response. The others of the band slowed, looking from their roan companion to the strange mare on the hill. Cavni watched the other unicorn for a moment or two, then turned her head away. There was a squeal, and then the hoof beats resumed, and then they had left.
The kite screamed at her, and Cavni tilted her head up. Its eyes were upon her, and Cavni half-reared, turning her nose up to the kite. It screeched at her again, circling, and the young mare watched it wheeling. Suddenly, the kite dived.
Reflexively, Cavni reared up, menacing the kite with her horn. It swung straight past her and down, barely off her shoulder. Then-- a thump, as the kite's claws struck into the ground, and there was a snapping sound. Moments later, the kite leapt back into the air, and a serpent was clutched in its beak. It circled high, still nearby Cavni, and the unicorn watched it snap up the serpent's tiny frame.
The unicorn mare whinnied, and the kite paused in its trajectory. Eyes bright, the kite dipped close to Cavni's nose, and as its swept by, its wings blowing dust in Cavni's mane, the unicorn found herself staring straight into the kite's piercing eye, and not afraid at all. Turning her head, the unicorn snatched a few hairs from her tail, and when the kite returned it took the hairs in its beak and swept away. As it was winging up in the sky, Cavni saw a tiny feather fall from its wing, and she trotted up. On circling back, the kite snatched the feather in its claws, before it even had chance to touch the ground. The hairs from Cavni's tail were still dangling in the bird's beak, and they brushed up against her nose as the kite landed on the crest of her neck. A couple of tugs on her mane, and the kite had left. The feather was twisted into Cavni's mane, and the kite winged away with tail-hairs clutched in beak, and its pinions pumped the air.
Cavni snorted, tossing her head. She felt the feather slap against her neck. Though she didn't know it, Cavni was the first to begin a tradition between the unicorns of the plain and the kites, of trading mane and tail hairs for feathers and for favors. Many years from now, descendants of Cavni would prance around with feathers in their manes and tails, feathers which commemorated making new friends from former enemies.
The unicorn's ears flicked as she watched the kite shrink in the sky, its form dwindling to a tiny black dot. Throwing her head up, the mare let loose a loud whinny and took off, her legs churning up the ground. She ran after the kite, but though she caught up with it, the unicorn kept running. It was not her intention to chase to bird, she only wished to run, to feel the wind rushing past. Her hoof beats thundered, and she didn't stop until her nostrils were red from heavy breathing.
And a herd of unicorns stood and watched her. They were circled around a water hole, their eyes now on Cavni. They watched her, and she blinked back at them and snorted, swishing her long tail. It was a strange group, their eyes were cold when they saw her, and the group consisted of many youngsters52; four years old, so Cavni estimated 52;and only three adults. The foremost adult, a tall stallion with a hide like embers, stepped forward and whistled at Cavni. She blinked at him, knowing his call was a warning, but she had no idea what she'd done.
The ember stallion shook his long horn at her, and Cavni backed away. She recognized them, now, as the warmongering tribe of unicorns who dwelt within the Vale, solely by the stiff way they stood. A woods separating the plains from the Vale kept most Valedwellers off the Mare's Back, but she had known of some who tired of rule by mad kings and vicious battleprinces, and came to the Mare's Back to escape that all. Raising her head, Cavni whistled a greeting.
"I am no foe!" she called, stomping her foot. "In the name of Alm'harat, mother of us all, welcome to the Mare's Back!" Cavni bobbed her head then, and she folded one leg in a bow that was traditional greeting among unicorns. The Valedwellers whinnied shrilly, and the ember stallion threw up his head.
"Back, Renegade!" he whistled, shrill. Cavni paused, mid-bow, and stared up at him. Renegade? "Leave us pass through this plain, for we do not fear to battle you!" The stallion was now looking beyond Cavni, as if he was expecting more unicorns to suddenly leap forth and attack him. At a loss, Cavni stared at him, feeling like a slack-jawed colt, and the stallion snorted and pranced. Behind him, the others began to move about, and to tighten into a circle, each with their sharp horns facing out.
Cavni whipped around, not taking time to talk. Swift as wind, she dashed away from the band of unicorns, leaving them. Her mind was talking away at a rate faster than she cared to listen, full of uncertainty. A Renegade? Valedwellers were mad, all of them! She had come in peace and been greeted by a threat, and the kite seemed to hold more understanding in its being than these unicorns of the Vale. Cavni gradually slowed to a trot. Why had they come bringing threats and not kept to their Vale, as they always had before?
She slowed and lay down in the grass, resting her head on her forelimbs. There was an itch on her skin, and she turned to see a tiny bug crawling up her shoulder. Shaking the skin there, Cavni shook the bug off her hide, and began to nibble at the grass between her forelegs, her ears flicking peacefully.
Lethargy spread over her body, so when Cavni moved again there was a prickle in her legs and belly. Snorting, she shook her head, and finally stood. The kite's feather tickled her fur, and Cavni craned her neck around to glance at it. The feather was a gray-green with dark gray spots around the edge of the feather. Flicking her tail, Cavni turned around and walked back the way she had come, back to the water hole.
The Vale unicorns had left, though their hoof prints were still fresh in the mud around the water. Cavni picked her way forward, her nostrils flared, and she remembered the stiff, almost musty scent of them so she would know Valedwellers when she saw them next. Dipping her head, the unicorn supped of the water, which was hot, as the midday sun had warmed it, but refreshing nonetheless. Cold water hurt the stomach, besides.
After drinking her fill, Cavni turned and walked away, yawning. The water in her stomach, the sun on her back, and all the running she had done today were taking their toll on her, though the day was only half finished, and were she to lie down right now some serpent or pard would attack her while her guard was down.
The call of a kite brought Cavni's attention back to the here and now, and she rolled her head up as the spotted kite swept over head, calling again. Cavni followed the kite's movement with her eyes as the bird swung around overhead, then suddenly folded its wings and swept down, its wings barely brushing the long grasses, and swung back up again. Snorting, Cavni pranced in place, then watched for a moment more, until the kite spun up too close to the sun and it was hard to keep watching. She moved to take another step, and paused. There, crouched in the grass, was a pard.
She had never seen a pard, because pards were remote creatures, and those unicorns who saw one generally did not live to describe them. The pard's hide was tawny, and his face marked by thin copper spots. The spots then went down the pard's neck, and grew thick along the length of his shoulders; then became broad horizontal stripes that ran around the forelegs. Cavni found herself looking straight back into golden yellow eyes that were full of a mixture of shame to have been caught, and an open honesty of what he had been planning. The unicorn blinked, and the pard blinked, too, and he moved with lithe grace through the grass, towards Cavni. A low growl rumbled like a purr in his throat, and the pard raised his head to flick along Cavni's length, testing to see where to strike her. Cavni followed his motions, turning on her hindquarters, and her eyes stayed on the pard's tawny face. His tail, which was like a unicorn's with not tassel on the end, waved calmly back and forth, patiently timing Cavni's movements.
The unicorn mare let out a heavy breath, and her ears pricked. The pard watched her, and his eyes became wary as she did something unexpected. Cavni stretched her nose out to him, but not so far that he could scratch her, and she saw the pard's muscles tense as he prepared to pounce.
Her muzzle twitched. "Ohh," she murmured, and the pard's muscles loosened. He stood up and looked at her, raising his head and pricking his ears. One ear flicked back behind him, then centered again on Cavni. The unicorn was entranced, watching his grace. She followed the ripple of his gold coat, and the pard sank down, his forepaws poised in front of his chest, and watched her. Cavni let out a heavy sigh, her tail flicked, and she murmured to the pard how golden his coat was.
The pard sat up, and he looked at her. There was suspicion and hunger in his eyes, and Cavni nickered to him. He was lithe, and she told him so; told him how admirably well-kept his coat was.
"Bright golden," Cavni said again, "and the spots glow like sun on the water's surface. You are honest also, pard," she said. The pard had shifted to his hindquarters and stared at her, full in the eye, and his muscles were loose, but if she ran, his twitching muzzle wordlessly reminded her, he would run her down instantly. Cavni inclined her head in silent acknowledgement, and broke her eye contact with the pard, so she could speak without having to see how he responded. "You can look me in the eye, even with the worst intentions, and not blink or look away. And you may hide, but once caught you made no move to vanish."
The pard grumbled at her, and flicked his tail again. Cavni pricked her ears, and watched to see what he would do. The pard only shifted, and turned to look away from her. He kept an ear turned towards the unicorn, and after a moment turned back and looked her in the eye. Still the pard said nothing, but he might not understand what Cavni said in the first place, and might be assuaged only by her tone. There was still hunger in his eyes, and his forefeet tensed, so the muscles in the shoulder rolled, but he did not move, except to turn his head up like he was no longer listening. Once again she nickered, appreciative.
"See now, how you have not attacked," she said. "For though you could have, and though I see you're hungry, you have not injured one who has complimented you." Her voice glowed with genuine feeling, she meant what she said here. The pard could hear it, and he turned to look her in the eye again. "Maybe you hunt creatures such as I, but it is no more a crime than for me to crop the grasses. We all are of Alm'harat's making, from the grass to the unicorn and pard; and none better than the other." The pard seemed to have stopped listening again, and Cavni paused, fearing she had gone too far. The wingcats had a different goddess, not Alm'harat, it was possible that the pards did as well. Perhaps mentioning Alm'harat had alienated this pard, when she did not wish to alienate him.
Then, to her surprise, the pard moved to rise. Shaking himself, her turned his head and looked at her, and the calm of a lake was in his eyes. The pard turned then, and slunk back into the grass, but, just as his tail was about to vanish, he paused and Cavni heard the steady rumble of his purr. Then he was gone, and his purr gone to her also, but Cavni let out a heavy sigh and dropped to the ground, making no move to follow. Her ears pricked and she closed her eyes, assured that if she fell asleep, no pard would pounce her while she slept.
Generations of unicorns who followed would hear of Cavni's encounter with the pard, and it would be said of her that "she saw her enemy couched in the grass, and loved him for his beauty and his grace, and charmed him there, despite himself, and lived to tell the tale."