Damascus had long since fled the island. Since the death of his father, he could never seem to escape the glares and the pointed stares of the members of the herd around him. He had only been a foal then. Being outcasted and essentially abandoned, being ignored in favor of his perfect brother, there was nothing that he could do. As soon as he was old enough, he had taken off, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone, including his mother and his brother. They didn't need him and they had made it quite clear that his absence would be celebrated. The sooty stallion was an adult now, or as close to adult as a colt could ever get. He had picked a more remote corner of the island, not trusting others not to judge him. He didn't have to ever go through the pain of being rejected again if he never interacted with anyone. Though it was relatively peaceful here, the occasional screams of sparring stallions or wildcats in heat still sent shivers down his spine.
Faint scars decorated his hide where he had had to comfront the harsh realities of being a single stallion. He did seem like easy prey to especially hungry predators, but thankfully he had never sustained anything serious. Unlike his father. Why was he cursed to be the lucky one? How much happier would the herd have been if his father, leader and protector, had returned instead of a scraggly, bleeding colt? One that was never supposed to survive in the first place? He had been the smaller twin when they were born. In fact, his mother had hesitated to name him as he struggled to stand when his brother was already romping in the fields. His perfect brother.
He glanced at the peaceful sky, wondering why today of all days he had decided to start thinking about his brother again. Enough time had passed for him to grieve the loss of his family, and he had hoped he would have moved on by now.
He continued his patrol, wandering around his little piece of paradise and marking the landmarks as he went. Horses didn't come by this way very often, but he wanted them to know what they were going against if they had any thought to take it from him. He was about to head back to a shady group of saplings to rest when he heard the distant sounds of panting and splahing. Something large.
He followed the sounds cautiously to the edge of the water where he saw a dark horse, dripping with water from the sea. There was something familiar in the way the stallion carried himself, the way he seemed almost angry with the world. Realization hit him hard, causing him to take a few silent steps back. His brother. His brother that had indirectly driven him out, made him feel like he was trash, a curse to the herd, the brother that had inflicted some of the non-visible scars on his heart. But why is he here? The stallion shook his head in confusion both at the sudden appearance of his brother and to clear his head. He quickly melted back into his forest, and wandered around until he found a hill to watch his brother from a distance. He watched as the stallion weakly dragged himself away from the seashore, and watched as he started his quest to find freshwater.
There was only one real stream that ran through his territory, so Damascus turned and started to quietly head in the direction, making sure to keep himself downwind. He watched quietly from a distance, feelings of resentment and longing tumultuously mixing in his stomach. Suddenly, the wind shifted directions and Damascus tensed. It was too late to run. He watched as the stallion slowly turned his head, an almost predatory gaze making him shiver.
"Brother, don't tell me you've come to haunt me here, too."
Those simple words locked his muscles in place, and Damascus could feel his heart starting to beat faster. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, and he debated the best course of action. He had run his entire life, trying to make up for a sin he hadn't meant to commit. He had wanted to find peace on this island, and now his past was back to haunt him. He would not run. Not this time.
The stallion stepped out of the trees, all traces of paralysis gone. In its place, the swagger of a bachelor stallion.
I've come to haunt you, have I? The stallion chuckled, pretending as if the intruder in front of him were nothing more than a stranger. That was the only way he would be able to emerge unscathed. I should say the same. After being exiled and finally finding a place I can call home only to have you show up on my shores, it seems like it might be the other way around hm. He knew he would make it worse, but he continued anyways. Did something happen at home? Mother dearest finally got tired of looking at the face of the horse that killed her mate? Of course you didn't, but you have the same face. Did the rest of the herd finally decide you weren't good enough either? Cast out with your bastard of a brother?
He moved into the open, posturing and showing the solid muscle that rippled beneath his skin. If anything, he wanted to prove that he had been doing well for himself and that he hadn't needed the herd.