Kestrel always hated the time when his mother inevitably went off to bring his newest sibling into the world, because he spent the entire time wracked with anxiety. His neck and armpits were dark and damp with sweat, the roan of his coat all but gone, looking like solid burned gold instead. His skin shook here and there as he trembled, chewing the air and nodding his head a few times before he glanced back off, again, at the path she’d walked down. It’d been longer than he expected it to be before she would call out to him, but she always called him once she was ready.
Why had she taken so long this time?
Kestrel snorted and flicked his pale tail out with a few frantic snaps, stomped his hoof and swayed in place. He’d already trudged a path through the soft, mineral-rich earth of the jungle island. “That’s it,” he huffed in his frustration, “I’m going to her.” He lifted his hoof to start off down the path she’d gone and then he heard her scream.
Tingles swept down his body and he thought - This isn’t happening. - just like he did every time he had the nightmare of hearing his mother cry out in fright. There were times (they were rare) that she had a nightmare and screamed in the night. The fear in her when she woke blindly, clearly unaware of where she was, then looked at him with her fright-filled eyes moments before reality cleared her mental fog. Kestrel never knew what had happened to his mother, but he knew it had been something bad.
Kestrel charged into the clearing just in time to see a painted stallion leap out from the jungle in front of him. Rage took the squeal from his lips, ears pinning back against his neck as he changed position and lunged to cut the stallion off. They met in a hard thud, and Kestrel struck out like wild, too emotional to be thoughtful of how he was fighting. He just wanted this stallion away from his mother; he had promised he would protect her from whatever it was that could harm her.
But the stallion who struck him did so with precision. Kestrel grunted as hooves pounded hard into his ribs. He stumbled off to the side, and was too slow to counter the blunt teeth snapping at his mane. The stallion grabbed a chunk and tore it free, though Kestrel didn’t feel the sting yet, just the warmth of a trickle of blood. The smell of copper hit the air. He still wasn’t aware he was the one that was bleeding. He lunged again, throwing his body against this beast, completely unaware they shared any relation. Kestrel had never thought himself capable of murder, no matter how angry he was, but without a second thought, that was exactly what he was trying to do to this stallion.
Then, a moment of chaos. His back hooves caught an exposed root and the world whirled as he went down. The older stallion seized the opportunity and launched up over him, slamming his hooves down. Kestrel managed to scramble out of the way, but he couldn’t get up. Panicked, he tried to kick his back hoof, but somehow it’d dug up under the root, into the earth from the impact, and his heel was caught under it. With a little bit of careful pushing of the dirt, he could get it free, but yanking it like he was did nothing but make the situation worse.
The stallion laughed and the sound was cruel. Kestrels eyes were frightful as he looked back at the older stallion. “No,” he whispered with horror, watching the paint stallion turn slowly around…
His mother was still frozen in fear. The foal, his newest sibling he hadn’t even had a chance to meet yet, was hiding behind her and utilizing her as a wall to keep between them. Kestrel yanked at his hoof, but it didn’t come free.
The stallion started forward. With just a few more steps he’d close the distance between himself and Talya.
“Mom, please!” Kestrel screamed, tears falling free down his face as he grunted and pulled, trying to scramble upward but failing, “Mom!”
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