.:|TITHE|:.

The young colt had never known the feeling of being driven from someone’s presence. He had never felt the nips of anger or dislike. But he had grown accustomed to the quiet tolerance of his presence. Silent thought, or in this case suffering through pain, were the conversations Tithe had come to know. Curiosity always perked his interest, but he had learned that more thorough answers came from what he learned for himself instead of what he asked his mother.

He stopped and listened patiently to what the stallion told him. His first words were confusing, much like what his mother often told him. She talked often about his future, one that he had no concept of except that he was ‘meant to be great.’ Nephiliam spoke of someone who would hurt him. But the little colt could not comprehend who in his life would mean him harm. It was true that the mantra of ‘be strong’ was drilled into his mind. He would be strong, these mysterious people would not hurt him, and they would not hurt those close to him.

The steel gray gaze of the colt looked up at the stallion. The lack of true humor was not unnoticed by him. He knew the concepts of loyalty and honor. Already he knew there was nothing he would not do for his friends. Upon their first meeting, Amaranthe had told Tithe that the gold stallion was a friend. Instinct and competition had not yet formed in the colt’s body, but determination was already pure in his heart. He looked up to just as he looked at Nephiliam.

”I will fight with you.” He said almost simply, standing as tall as he could beside Nehpiliam, his neck arched. ”You won’t fight alone.”

”No.” A dry voice added. Amaranthe approached them, her own eyes looking over the stallion’s bumps and bruises. ”You won’t be alone. Anyone I need to help pound into the ground?”