Celestia howled in anguish, and cradled the small body in her legs, begging to whatever gods might have been listening to spare one as young and innocent as a child, who had no place being killed like this. Agony flared in her face and eye as her tears seeped into her wounds, and her blood flowed heavily from the dozens, if not hundreds of cuts she bore, but she couldn't have cared less. A child was dead because of her, and she was surrounded by the bodies of innocents. If there was any justice in this world, they'd all be alive, and not her, the mare that had caused this.