It was dark and quiet, but none in the Ridge slept.

A cloud passed across the face of the moon again— and Hades, lifting his head, paused to watch its procession with ember-bright eyes. Somewhere in front of him there was a swaying and shifting of branches, punctuated by the staccato rhythm of hooves over soft ground. And though his mother had been firm and fierce in her insistence that the children remain close to the herd, the chocolate boy resumed his trek, trailing along in its wake. With nothing but hazy moonlight to light the jungle trail, he was only another shadow amongst many— but ahead, a gold stallion had left the cover of the jungle and was ascending the mountain. Ears flattening warily, Rivani’s son watched the stranger’s progression until it was suddenly halted. Watched his mother’s beloved shadow meet the intruder in a tangle of limbs, their savage grunts and screams filling the silence. Watched the black ‘Teke take blow after blow before rising to meet the stallion, striking out desperately with her own legs.

And then— after they’d broken apart— watched Faolain stagger and crumple to the ground.

Somewhere nearby, the soft clatter of stone and harsh rasping breaths announced the presence of the brutal male. The slender mare had succeeded in forcing him down the mountain, but there was nothing to prevent the palomino from returning to crush the life from the prostrate mare. Jaws tightly clenched, Hades watched the trespasser clamber back to his feet and lift his pale face upward, as if contemplating exactly that. And then— surging forward with a scream of fury— he struck, small teeth clamping down on the curve of the palomino’s flank.

After a pause that was long enough to span a few thundering beats of his heart— a pause undoubtedly accounted for by his target’s shock— a powerful force abruptly punched the dark chestnut in his chest. Tumbling backwards from the force of the unexpected kick (he’d never before bitten anyone who fought back in earnest), Hades watched the sky and ground trade places at least thrice before he finally rolled to a stop some distance away. And somewhere along the path his body had taken, the boy’s bravery lay discarded, his recklessness abandoned. Scrambling back upright, the young colt— overwhelmed by an all-encompassing terror— could only think of fleeing. But as he turned, a pair of blunt teeth closed on his ember-colored tail. Frenzied, desperate, the child turned and snapped at one golden ear, but his hold was broken immediately. And in the next second, the Lagoon’s Boss grabbed him head by the arch of his brow above and the curve of his cheek below, shaking him vigorously enough to turn the world completely dark before dropping the foal onto the forest’s loam in a crumpled heap.

Dazed, Hades listened as the sound of hoofbeats began to retreat into the trees, watched as the moon slunk lower and lower until it was buried. The sky lightened, and the jungle began to reanimate. After a time, the mahogany boy found the strength in his slender legs to rise in a stand, and the anger in his heart to stagger a short distance along the trail that his first-ever foe had left. The warm and sticky trickle of blood down one side of his face was countered by the cold, damp trail of tears on the other. Exhaustion fogged his mind and leadened his limbs, but in the end it was the pain that undid the Ridge’s prince.

When the last dregs of adrenaline trickled from him, it met him like a solid wall— and Hades, his fierce spirit finally broken, curled up into a tight ball and was still.