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

Rade left the Lagoon’s young soldier standing in the shadows— determination igniting a new fire amidst the cold ash of his grief.

He didn’t doubt that they would expect him to flee with the hard-won prize of his freedom. To return, perhaps, to the seclusion of the Savanna and the false comfort that it offered. Crawling and mewling like the broken and worthless creature that Cullen saw him to be; a stallion so old and done that they’d sent a boy to answer his challenge. But Rade would not slip quietly away into the shadows— particularly with the memories that hung all too fresh in his mind. No, he would do everything in his power to make the Lagoon’s self-proclaimed King rue the day that he’d thought to target him. He would show Cullen how wrong he’d been to presume that despair was sufficient enough to destroy him.

He would fight until the last breath was forced from his lungs, and his body grew cold and still.

Screaming in defiance, Rade’s strides came faster and faster, fueled by the hatred that threatened to consume him. His battle-lamed foreleg throbbed each time its hoof made contact with the ground in a pulse that echoed the roaring beat of his heart— but it was a dim thing; scarcely felt beneath the purpose that led him into the heart of the bachelors’ territory. Lush greenery and shadows flashed past him in endless succession until the trees began to thin— never yielding entirely to the seamless blue canvas of the sky, but allowing just enough of the sun’s light to support a lush carpet of grass. During his years in the Lagoon, Rade had rarely ventured to this place. As Boss, he’d favored the shadowed recesses further south. And as a captive, he’d clung rebelliously to the northern reaches of its borders— wanting nothing of the bachelors but his own peace.

But now— now, he came in search of those eyes and ears he’d studiously avoided. Now, he came freely; came as an equal. Bringing his slender body to a sudden halt, the golden stallion waited to see who might approach him. To see how slender the thread of hope from which he dangled so precariously truly was. These men would know nothing of him save the half-truths and outright lies that Cullen had chosen to tell them…. and such words that were unlikely to inspire loyalty. But perhaps their loyalty to their current leader was equally dubious. Perhaps the truth might yet serve to sway them. And if not, then he would resort to treachery and schemes to serve his purpose.

May the better man win.

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