to live and burn is
the most exquisite form of self destruction

Rade knew that he had lost them - that he had lost this first and most important of battles. In his own hunger for change, he had forgotten that the Vulcans were cynics and misandrists by nature, having lived and breathed the hatred of his kind for seasons beyond count. And though he understood their mistrust, it was still frustrating to witness their unwillingness to take even a single step to meet him when he had arrived with olive branch extended. No, most of them would prefer to stand on the highest point of their thrice-damned Peak and look down their muzzles at him. They would sooner hold themselves above all accountability while shouting atrocity at one who willingly shouldered the burden of blame.

And their mountain would crumble long before their resolve did.

With a contemptuous snort Rade turned as the last remnants of the too-large gathering began to trickle away, pointing his body toward the path that traveled down the mountain. Alone or not, the palomino stallion still intended to act - and as the mares had not forbidden him from remaining in their home, he intended to take advantage of the bachelors' separation from their Boss. Undoubtedly there were plenty among them who were not happy with the recent play of events, and it was those he would seek to win first. In time - and with the added pressure of their peers - the more reluctant might even be converted to the cause of peace.

He had not taken more than a single step before the voice stops him. Soft, tentative, and familiar in ways the golden stallion did not want to visit. Rade? Without turning the roan paused to listen, the play of tension under his burnished hide obvious. She mentioned her brother Cullen and her mother Cherish, leaving little doubt in his mind where their conversation would turn if it was permitted to continue. And he could not face it - could not allow the shame to chew holes in the wall he'd carefully erected around his heart.

So he acted as any wild animal would and lashed out at the perceived threat.

Not physically, no. Rade had once been the sort to embrace violence to express the turmoil of his emotions, but he had struggled long and hard to overcome that part of himself. Instead he looked over his flank at the figure of the painted mare, ears pinned back and teeth bared in a clear threat. "I'm sure that you've been told much about me, and nothing that I care to hear repeated." Rade snarled, the fervor and honey that had been in voice earlier twisted into something dark and filled with malice. "If it's validation you seek, there are plenty of fools here who would be happy to grant it. If it's vengeance, then you are welcome to come for it. I expect it's one of the two - there is little else that you Vulcans seem to desire than to cling to the bitterness of the past while lamenting for the state of the present. That, and persecuting others for their crimes while conveniently ignoring your own."

With a wrenching effort the golden stallion swung his head back around and began to descend the path. The Peak had broken him once, and in the days of weakness that had followed he'd committed an unspeakable act. Cherish. While Rade accepted the burdens of guilt and regret that he would carry to his grave, he would not - could not - stand here and discuss it when there was so much at stake.

There was no changing the past, but he would not allow it to influence the future.

stallion . twenty-one . palomino roan . mustang mix . 15.1hh
debonaire x neassa