Unlike the other zebra, I don’t avert my eyes for even a second. Indeed, I focus on his eyes instead. His face was as neutral as ever as he sealed the collar around my neck, but his eyes, as expected, told a different story. I could see, above all else, the kind of moral self-righteousness that only jilted mares and Zhaanephi faithful were capable of, expressed with perfect seriousness. Oh, it brought me to new heights of anger, held back once again by that ever-present will to survive. But I could also see a growing irritation the longer he looked back. Perhaps he is not accustomed to anyzebra looking back at him like this?