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[Ember Cawood]

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The evening desert sand was sunburnt under Ember's bare feet. Winds whipped up dust devils and released them on unsuspecting passers-by. There were several people in the area. Odd, Ember thought, for she rarely saw anyone in this part of the desert. But they all seemed to be walking in the same direction and chatting gaily, so Ember's curiosity quickly got the better of her.

"C'mon 'Enry. Le's go see wot them folk is up ta." Henry, as always, followed loyally a few steps behind her. His dark chestnut coat and hooves were so dusty that he was the inverted ghost of his shadow.

Soon, Ember heard sounds of merriment ahead. There was music, laughter, and the clinking of bottles and mugs, all twisting languidly in the air around a wisp of chimney smoke. Ember shivered. The idea of a fire sounded inviting - the evening desert air was growing colder by the minute as the last rays of twilight faded on the horizon.

The building was tall, and a warm glowing haze eminated from the windows. Ember squinted and looked up at the sign. "Moon's Tavern," Ember read aloud. "Bet ah could get ye a pear in there, 'Enry. Looked like nice folk wot were goin' in there."

Henry snorted, his pace quickening at the word pear. Pears were his favourite fruit, and he hadn't eatin in a day or two. He lowered his head to the small of Ember's back and nudged her forward, speeding her step as well.

Ember passed by a gentleman in brilliant orange garments as Henry urged her up the steps of the tavern. She recognized him as a man called Andreas. He glanced at her, and then looked to the lanky horse pushing her up the stairs.

"Welcome to the tavern, Lass." Andreas smirked and added, "Is Henry coming into the tavern tonight too?"

"O'course. 'Ell yeah 'e is," Ember stated as she passed by the line of nightmares and war horses lined up in front of the tavern, then continued up the inside staircase. Henry was mere inches behind her. "Ah'm goin' teh fin' 'Enry a pear."

Andreas paused for a moment and reached into a satchel slung over his shoulder. But he apparently thought better of it, and instead swiftly followed Ember up the stairs, chuckling to himself.

[Ember Cawood]

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Inside, the tavern was indeed warm, and the atmosphere amiable. Ember weaved through the patrons on stools and in chairs with Henry in tow. A few people glanced up wide-eyed at the thin, dusty horse, but Ember paid no attention to their gawking stares. She wandered up to a small group huddled around a lantern-lit table, slid her hand into her small leather pouch, and found the single gold coin given to her for an errand she'd run for a stranger earlier in the day.

"Does anyone 'ave a pear for me 'orse? He ain' eat in a few days..." Ember looked slightly abashed and quickly added, "Ah gots a coin, ah kin pay fer it." No one seemed to notice Ember's request, but a woman briskly approached her from behind the bar.

"You cannot bring your pet in here," the woman stated flatly.

Ember glared at her for a brief moment. The woman's long dark hair could only help to obscure what her scant armour did not attempt to hide. "'Enry in't me pet, 'e's me best pal," Ember retorted.

She turned to pat Henry, but he was gone. In a flash, he had disappeared. Ember's eyes wildly searched the tavern for Henry, but to no avail. She turned again to meet the cold gaze of the scantily clad woman who had spoken to her. The woman smirked and cocked her head. "Pets stay downstairs."

Ember panicked. "'ENRY!! 'EEEEEEENRY!?!" She looked around, the realization that Henry was gone sinking to the bottom of her stomach like a rock. "Wot did ye do with 'Enry!? Wytchery! WYTCHERY!!"

Ember began to hyperventilate too violently to speak anymore. The woman smiled wider, revealing pointed teeth. An evil glint shone in her eyes, but she spoke calmly. "Henry is outside, downstairs."

Slowly, Ember's breath returned to her, and she could find words again. "Yer a werewolf eren't ye? An' a wytch."

The woman arched a brow and chuckled at Ember. "I'm a vampire."

Vampire. Here we go again... Ember fought off another violent spasm of hyperventilation. "Werewolf, wytchpire, wote'er ye are...Ah cain' leave 'Enry downstairs alone! Wot if'n summat 'appens to 'im?"

By this time, most of the patrons in the room had stopped to eavesdrop on the conversation. Ember scowled at the woman, who only smiled sarcastically in return. But, seemingly eager to bring the ruckus to an end, the werewytchpire relented. "You can bring Henry to the roof, if you wish. There is a garden up there."

Ember's eyes narrowed. "The roof eh? An' 'ow d'ye s'pose ah gets a 'orse up on th' roof?"

The woman sighed. "Follow me, I will show you."

Ember followed hesitantly as the lady stepped onto a sandstone tile bearing some unknown symbol. "Kin 'Enry munch on yer garden?" Ember asked as she passed a plate of food on an empty table. She deftly pocketed a shiny apple from the top of the pile.

The woman disappeared without another word. It happened too quickly for Ember to even react. She stepped onto the tile where the woman had stood just a second before, and felt a cold rush of air. Suddenly, Ember was standing on the roof, in the midst of a lush green garden. A sparkling pool of water rippled gently in the night breeze. Henry was standing just inches away.

"'ENRY!!" Ember squealed, wrapping her arms around the horse's neck. The werewytchpire only shook her head, stepped onto a second sandstone tile, and disappeared.

A hushed voice from behind Ember made her jump. "I seen ye filch that shiny apple, ye little thief. I've got my eye on ye."

Ember turned to see a man with wild hair and bright blue armour glaring at her. "It's jes' for me 'orse, ye see...'Enry ain' eat in a few days..."

"Oh...well if it's for the horse, then I shan't say anything. I admire your concern for the equine community."

Ember turned back to Henry, rolling her eyes. "'E's as mad as ah am, 'e is." She led Henry to a patch of grass and flowers, mulling over the actions of the woman who brought her here, and stewing hotly over such treatment of her best pal.

Henry looked expectantly to Ember as she stood on tip-toe to whisper in his ear. "She said ye could munch on 'er garden, she did." Henry lowered his head to the delectable flowers and grasses before him and began to graze contentedly. Ember giggled mischievously and sunk down against his foreleg to sit cross-legged in the grass. She polished the apple on her kilt and took a big, juicy bite. Use yer wytchery on 'Enry, will ye? Henry munched noisily on a beautiful, brightly flowered bush. Tha's wot ye GET...