My name is Urra, and I come from the Artic, up in Terror Mountain, in a herd of wingless Unis. My mother, Elle, was the lead mare of the herd, and wingless like the rest of them. My father was a winged, hornless Uni named Aran...he was killed by a Snowbeast before I was born, but he would have been killed by the rest of the herd anyway. They hated winged Unis, horn or not.
I was born, a 'normal' Uni, white pelted like my mother with a green mane and tail like my father. This meant I had wings, and of course, I was hated for it...if my mother wasn't lead mare, I would have probably been slaughtered. Me and my sister...
Have I mentioned Atheena? She's my older sister by about a year. We don't share fathers. She's like me, a true Uni, her father being a winged equine that suffered the same fate as Aran...when in the Artic, we didn't socialize much. I only have one memory of her as a child - when I was about 8 months old, she took me to a higher part of the mountain at night and taught me the names of every star...the next day, she was gone. All I had were a hundred names to remember her by every evening.
A few months after Atheena's departure, something terrible happened. Hunters came to our herd lands, with their tamed Lupes and Gelerts...it was the most frightening thing in the world, more frightening than all those attempts on my life by my herd mates, more frightening than the predators that lurked on the outskirts of our home, even more frightening than the Snowbeasts. They came and killed most of the herd, taking our horns - silver, gold, onyx, ivory.
My mother and I ran, but as we climbed into a supposedly safer part of the mountain, a Snowbeast appeared. Screaming at me to fly away, my mother summoned one last surge of power with her horn and charged...as I unfolded my tiny wings and plummeted down the mountain, I heard a victorious roar behind me. Tears streaming down my face, I landed and galloped back to the herd lands.
As I arrived, I had to step over the bodies of Uni and hunter alike. The dozen or so of the herd that were left glared at me as I approached. The demanded where my mother was and I told them. She was dead.
They began to shout at me, screaming that my sister and I were curses, that my mother was a witch, so many things. They threw their magic at me, pelting me with their inherited powers. Dodging their attacks, I grew increasingly afraid...and then the anger swooped in and took over.
With a scream of rage, my own silver horn sparked into life, a white, icy blast soaring towards the remainder of the herd. When I opened my eyes, they were gone...the snow around me and myself were covered in blood, and the ground where they'd been was smouldering, snow melted away. Then I ran.