The painted colt watches his mother as the name Zjeena washes over her. Just as it had with father, there is an immediate sorrow that forms, hazing her brown and blue gaze with pain so much that he finds himself flinching with regret. She flinches too, the name a stabbing pain in her soul but unlike his chocolate sire, Monster does not try to distance herself from the subject but instead tries to offer her son some sense of understanding. While he would never fully understand the effects that the tawny mare had on his mother and father, he at least wanted to know of her. She had meant so much to them, so much to their herd. Surely she was worth remembering, even if she had chosen to leave.

Mother’s voice causes his own ears to fall backwards in dismay, it did not feel right, thinking that she was hurting, but at least her words provided some assurance that it would not always be so. He presses his lips firmly together as his small head tilts up to meet her gaze. ”Do… Do you think she will come back? One day I mean?” he hates that the subject causes so much pain but his curiosity is firm enough that he needed to know. Wanted to know.

However her change of subject drew his thoughts back to himself and the unmistakable pride gleamed in his golden eyes as her own lit with pride. Though father’s reprimand had wounded him deeply, knowing that mother was proud of him was enough to quell whatever shame he had felt at that moment. She reaches to him, her soft velvet muzzle brushing tenderly against his cheek. Like a child, he leans into the warmth of her touch, finding comfort in the familiar scent that clung to her skin. Small ears flicker at the sound of her words and despite himself, his grin widens. He had only thought of himself at the moment he faced the black cat. He wanted to show his father and mother both that he could defend the herd from any potential threats. Listening to her words now, it made reality sink in and for the first time he thinks of what could have happened had he not interfered. The black cat had been lithe and silent. A predator that moved with silent ease through the trees and brush alike. While it’s long, sharp claws had torn jagged pink scars into his skin, the same wounds could have killed a foal half his age or even maimed an unsuspecting mare. He had seen the remains himself, of the small little jungle deer that a cat had taken victim. It’s neck had been perfectly punctured by the same sharp teeth that had struck his own shoulder in retaliation. That could easily be a foal. It could have been him.

A lump forms in his throat now as he glances up at Monster again, staring at the multifaceted hues of bright azure in her blue eye. She hid her worry for him well, hid it deep below the surface, but Loupgaru did not miss it. He did not miss the relief that glittered there when he spoke of father coming to his aide. It must be hard for a mother, he thought, knowing that her children faced dangers with each turn. If it was not their curious nature or adventurous spirit, it was nature itself that seemed determined to prey upon them. How often did she worry for his health? How much had those scars that he showed off so proudly hurt her? Like any good mother, like any good queen, she hid it well beneath her gaze.

For a moment he remains silent, letting her words sink into the depths of his consciousness and linger there for the wolf to discern. Like his father, he felt the beast, felt the coarse brown hairs and the golden savage eyes as they shown through from time to time when he felt most primal. It had been the wolf that took on the cat. The wolf that screamed its independence and desire to be seen as more than a mere child. The wolf had protected him from the most vicious blows and he allowed the creature to take control of his body then. He did not fear, and that was what father said worried him most. Creamy tail flicks idly against his flanks as Loupgaru shifts his weight from one side to the other, cocking his left hind leg at rest. ”Momma…” he begins again, pondering his words for a moment before allowing them to break past his lips. ”Is that why Zjeena meant so much to you? Did she work with you and Da?” He knows the subject is a tender one, but he needed to know. He wanted to know.
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