As he stood there trying to unravel the tangled web of his thoughts and emotions, a shadow slipped beside him, and a rough voice broke the silence. Conquistador could not help but to bristle at what the stranger implied, his golden ears flattening against the curve of his skull. "I am not a weakness," the boy spat, pulling away from the painted stallion. He had intended to walk away; to leave the nameless man alone with his contempt, but he could not turn away from the truth that Felony had so succinctly laid out before him.

If he ran from the truth, he would only prove that he did not possess the strength to face it.

"Did he mean it?" Conquistador asked abruptly, glancing askance at the bachelor. He was shocked to see his brother's eyes in the unfamiliar face. "He said I would do well here, but I- I'm not like him. Rade, I mean. I don't want to fight anyone. I don't want to hurt anyone." The words sounded childish when they left his lips, but it was too late to take them back. And there was truth to them - he had seen violence tear his family apart with his own eyes, and could not imagine himself embracing his brother's lifestyle. Fighting against enemies and friends alike.

But life was a battle, as Conquistador had come to learn over the past week, nursing his fractured rib. Fighting for every breath, for every blade of grass. Fighting to keep the tears from falling when Rade had turned away from his touch. He had been forged in the fires of hardship, tempered by the trials of his youth. But he had never wielded the weapon of his strength against another. Even when his brother had attacked him, Conquistador had only stood between him and the mares, shielding their bodies with his own.

He had seen Rade do the same when Debonaire had attacked him; had watched the Lagoon's king turn to flee. But their father had pursued Rade relentlessly, placing his body between the roan stallion and the sea. "Rade, he- he killed our father," Conquistador admitted to the spotted stranger, uncertain as to why he was sharing his secrets with someone who he scarcely knew. "But if he hadn't defended himself, he would have died. He chose his life over his family, when I would have given my life rather than risk hurting them. Is that what you meant? Am I weak because I refuse to fight?"

He didn't want to be a monster - but if he did not fight, then he could only die.