Meadow

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

In but a single moment, the house of cards Rade had spent seasons constructing came toppling down around him.

When news of the bachelors’ decision reached him in the Peak, the golden stallion could do little more than stand in the midst of their figurative wreckage, paralyzed by the overwhelming force of his fury. He had accepted that Cullen was beyond redemption when he’d heard whispers of the Vulcan mare’s death, but this... The quickened beat of his own heart thundering in his ears. Cullen had not only helped to tear the islands - and countless families - apart with his contribution to the war, but had also succeeded in corrupting an entire generation of stallions who would sow senseless violence in their turn. And as much as he had once thrived on chaos as the Lagoon’s King, Rade could not condone what had been built in the wake of his reign. Could not agree that the strength that his son had accumulated within his home’s borders was worth what it had cost.

The sound of crashing waves, a scream of fear, and a crack like thunder. Then, darkness.

A deep shudder wracked the roan male’s body, and he lurched forward, fleeing from the memory of the abyss into which he’d once fallen. Forgetting where he was, and teetering - quite literally - on the brink for a heart-stopping moment. Then his lean body was twisting to one side, his back hooves scrabbling for purchase on the shelf of stone until the front ones rejoined them and restored equilibrium. Trembling now from a mixture of exertion and exhilaration, Rade stepped carefully back a few more strides, abandoning the view that he’d relished the first day he came to the Vulcans’ mountain. In that moment - with so much of the world laid out before him - Rade had felt not only powerful, but invincible.

Now, he felt hollow. Now, he felt bitter… bitter, and tired in a way that sunk down to his very bones.

Descending the perilous ledge was always a trial, but it had never felt so insurmountable before. The palomino stallion stopped frequently to rest, but even so his lungs burned, and his joints throbbed - as if, during the course of his reflection, the years he’d shed upon his arrival had crept back up on him. It was a different creature who finally arrived at the base of the ridge - one who burned not with vigor and determination, but with the light of a flame that was doomed to consume itself. Stalking south with fluid strides that gave lie to his various aches, Rade left the Peak with only a destination and a vague idea of his intentions.

The plan - incomplete though it was - continued to take form as he marched inexorably toward the Lagoon. Though he could not hope to best every one of the bachelors’ soldiers in combat, a decisive blow could still be struck - if he was fortunate enough to find Cullen apart from the herd. Perhaps, in the time it took for the others to come to the Boss’s aid, Rade could kill him. It was not so difficult for their kind, after all. A blow to the skull or spine, shattering anatomy so delicate that it could not be repaired. A pair of jaws clamped unyieldingly over the throat, crushing the sides of the windpipe together. Even a broken limb could be fatal, in the right circumstances - perhaps not immediately, but from the vulnerability it inflicted on its bearer. A horse with three limbs could not flee predators, or even defend themselves against their own kind. If hamstrung in such a manner, Cullen might well die a poetic death to one of the very snakes he’d birthed.

Even understanding the necessity of his actions, however, Rade took no pleasure in these thoughts of filicide.

Filled with such regretful hate, the golden roan hardly saw his surroundings. Forest yielded to meadow, and dappled shadows to sunlight - and yet these shifts were noticed only in passing. Two of his kind clashed nearby, the sound of their squeals shattering the silence… but they could not pierce the veil of false serenity that surrounded Rade. Once - in another lifetime - he might have allowed his passions to consume him. Might have driven for one with the broad plane of his chest, and snapped his blunt teeth in the face of the other. Now, only the flick of a tattered ear indicated that the palomino had noticed anything at all, and the reins of his savage nature were held firmly in check,

At least, until a tall, slender red figure abruptly loomed before him.

It was Rade, of course, who had erred - who had been so unaware of his surroundings that he’d nearly walked right into the chestnut ‘Teke. But with a scream and a snap of his jaws he warned her away, even as his white-dusted body twisted beyond the reach of her hooves. And though he might easily have allowed this confrontation to escalate in the same manner as the two stallions whom he’d passed only moments ago, the old stallion continued along his way after only a brief pause, considering his message delivered - regardless of whether or not its subject chose to heed it.

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