Their journey is a whirlwind, with the child hurrying as though his life - both their lives - depend on it. And in a way it does, Kune reflects. They are leaving behind a fragmented life and racing toward a new beginning. With as much time as Kune has wasted on his own, his soul shriveling into a grey husk without the fire of Božena’s presence to keep it warm, this cannot come quickly enough.

Terrifying as it is for the Peak to loom ever closer, like a giant tooth cutting into the blue sky, Kune feels a little of himself return with every step. The familiar sensation of these foothills beneath his feet triggers long-buried memories, some of them sharp with anger and shame, but he pushes through their thorny embrace, instead revelling in the things he had missed: the crispness of the air, the vastness and grandeur of the landscape, and the familiar scents of pine and earth. There’s something else - the heady musk of stallions - too, but Kune mentally files this away to investigate later.

The higher they climb, however, the more Kune’s attention and energy must instead be spent on carefully navigating the slopes with his cumbersome frame and unconditioned muscles while the lithe and confident young colt speeds ahead, pebbles scattering beneath his small hooves. Just a little further, the colt says in their mother tongue, and a sweating Kune pauses to gather his breath. It’s then he realizes the colt has no idea he’s been here before - lived here before, even, or already had such a close relationship with the mare the colt presumably intends to lead him to. Regardless of the unspoken bond with which their shared heritage binds them, he and the boy are still both strangers, knowing not so much as one another’s names. A nervous smile of amusement pulls at the corner of Kune’s mouth when he imagines what Božena’s reaction to this will be: that they had not even stopped to exchange pleasantries before deciding that they were now family.

Assuming the very sight of him doesn’t fill her with loathing, that is.

Finally the colt stops, and Kune wearily catches up with him, still blowing heavily out of his nostrils. He has no words for the child, but looks on him with a softness to his gaze, marvelling again at his presence and the way his rounded snout and youthful frame cut a noble silhouette against the sky. If ever Kune has witnessed a beacon of hope before, it’s within this child.

The boy calls for Božena then, and though Kune had expected this, hearing her name leave another’s lips still gives Kune a shiver down his broad back. He meanders a little closer and gently bumps the colt’s narrow withers with as much casual affection as if they had known one another for years. He searches the colt’s face and opens his mouth to speak, but there is so much joyful expectation in the boy’s eyes that Kune remains silent, and waits the remaining minutes for Božena to appear.

The clatter of her hooves on bare rock sends Kune’s heart racing, and when she finally appears, tall, dark, and beautiful as ever - though more battle-scarred than he had remembered - Kune’s breath leaves his lungs all at once and his gut turns to ice. He’s briefly seized by the feeling that he’s unworthy of her presence, but he resists the urge to prostrate himself, instead standing tall and composed. A little of this composure slips, however, when the colt repeats his mantra and looks back and forth between them hopefully, seemingly unaware of the thick tension hanging in the air between the adults.

His dark eyes shining, Kune swallows against the lump in his throat and takes one slow step closer. “Božena… He found me. He led me here. He does not know...” Kune rumbles in their mother tongue. “I hope I have not overstepped by letting him bring me here.”