Danger was always amplified in the minds of the young - but so was excitement. Having arrived safely on the other side of the ledge, raw nerves were quickly soothed by the comfort of one another's touch, and fear was quickly replaced by burgeoning curiosity. Even Sciannath - who was usually the more wary and reserved of the pair (not that this was saying much) - found himself eager to explore what lay around the next bend in the path. This was, after all, unexplored and forbidden territory. And these truths rendered it more exciting than anywhere else they could visit - even if it had been the same sloping hills and meandering streams that they were accustomed to. Of course, Claudya and the colt would have tired of it more quickly had it proved to be more of the same, but they still would have gone.

Sciannath had just fallen behind the dark filly when the sound of heavy hoofsteps made him glance back over his shoulder. And then he froze, teeth chattering together submissively. Of course it was their mother, and no stranger who they might have fooled with some half-cocked story. The blue colt had already learned that such tactics were useless on Adelheid, who reared them both with affection but was not known to give ground easily. But to his surprise, the black mare only indicated that they should continue on their way, and fell in behind them. The boy’s eyes - one solid gold, the other touched with sapphire - slid to his sibling, wondering if this was some kind of trick. Maybe she just wanted to nip him in the rump while he wasn’t watching, like Rade had done the night he’d taken him to the Peak. Being bit in the butt hurt, and wasn’t an experience that he cared to have again.

The memory of his arrival here also served to remind Sciannath that he had not seen the golden stallion since - except, perhaps, at a distance. For a moment the roan weanling was tempted to ask Adelheid about him. He knew that the palomino was his sire, but wasn’t certain exactly what that meant; his experience in familial relationships extended no further than the bonds he shared with Claudya and her dam. But something about the draft-like mare’s stony expression held his curiosity in check - at least as far as Rade went. As for the opportunity to see the cliffs, however… his gangly legs moved in excited, skittering strides, bringing him close enough to the spotted filly’s side to speak so that Adelheid wouldn’t hear him.

Or so he assumed, at least - while speaking loudly enough that half the mountain could have heard if they’d cared to listen. “That was close,” he said with an exaggerated glance back at their mother. “I thought for sure she’d eat us up for trying to get to the cliffs when she told us not to.” Sciannath didn’t consider the possibility that the punishment might simply come later - as a child, he lived in the moment, with a memory like a sieve. In the case of his rough start, this proved to be a blessing. From Adelheid’s point of view, however, it could well be considered a curse - the young were more inclined to forget lessons and consequences that had not been reinforced time and time again. And even those that had weren’t entirely sacred, as their wanderings today had proven.

In any case, the tension in the blue colt’s thoughts and body eased as the trio continued to climb along the well-worn path. He had fallen back so that his muzzle was level with Claudya’s flank, the warm exhalations of his labored breaths sometimes bathing her spotted skin. Though the idea of climbing to the mountain’s pinnacle had been thrilling at first, Sciannath was tiring quickly and hoped that the cliffs weren’t far. He was growing faster to overcome the delay that had been caused by his abandonment and near-starvation, but still lagged behind the physical development that a foal his age should have achieved - physically, at least. Mentally and emotionally, he had so far proven to be a solemn and strangely matured child. Claudya’s vivaciousness was beginning to coax out the bright and charming side of his nature, however - the tokens of personality that he had inherited from the golden stallion who had sired him.

And, of course, the penchant for mischief as well - as easy as it might have been to blame on the older filly.