He didn't talk much, even to his parents. It was not that he couldn't talk it was just he preferred to show his feelings throug actions and not words. He didn't know why he was this way but he knew his troubles with his personality were only just beginning with the Belikov incident. He wondered if mother knew about it or if father was loyal enough to keep it between them as a father to son bond. It didn't matter, the herd would be talking about it eventually and soon he would become the colt everyone strayed from. The fillies would whisper in their groups to stay away from him and the adult mothers would quickly guide their children away when they saw him coming.

Did he care? Honestly, I don't know if he does. On this day, Askold stood watch over his mother as she slept at the edge of the jungle. She has gone through a lot lately so the best thing he could do for her was let her sleep in peace. He would make sure nothing ever bothered her while she slept and that no one would try to take advantage of her vunerable state. Movement from the sea catches his eye so Askold stares at the small figure in the distance with red ears perked straight towards the sky. He didn't know who the young horse was, nor could he tell the gender, but he watches as the horse struggles to the beach and then ceases to move.

He takes a quick glance at his mother who still sleeps soundlessly before he travels closer to the foal on the shoreline. The closer he got the more it was confirmed that the horse was around his age. What was a foal his age doing traveling in the sea alone? His nose points towards the body as he sniffs the air with deeps inhales. It was a filly. Ears perk forward as he cautiously gets closer until finally he was stopped as close as he could get to the painted bay roan. His muzzle lowers to her body as he nudges drenched her back. He could see she was still breathing, but she was out cold. Instinct took over as the red colt begins to lick her dry under the warm sun, starting from her back up to her cheeks.