Though Finch was a bright spark amidst the shadows of the jungle, she could not hold the darkness that descended on the dark stallion at bay. From the first moment her lips brushed the side of his face, Hades froze, his eyes wide and full of fear. The young mare’s touch was as gentle and light as the brush of a butterfly’s wing, but everything about her companion’s body was tight, braced as if for a violent blow. Every part of him was transported— however briefly— back into the worst moment of his past, the moment his scars had been born. The moment that had taken both his voice and his heart, and twisted him into a reflection of the very monster who’d hurt him. But the dark boy didn’t pull away, as he had countless times with Siobhan and Faolain and even his own mother.

He didn’t pull away, and after it was over there was even a flicker of regret in his flame-colored eyes.

In lieu of her powerful, conflicting touch, Hades focused on the sabino girl’s voice. The way it turned playful and bright, driving his shadows back where they belonged. Someone is bound to think you are homeless, Finch teased as she pulled away, her eyes glimmering with humor. The chestnut rolled his own in an exaggerated manner, snorting a sharp retort that was softened by the smile that crept its way onto his lips. And when the bay slapped his chest with her pale-haired tail as he fell in behind her for their short journey, he responded by flattening his ears and squealing in protest. Then, narrowing his eyes mischievously, Hades snaked out his neck to nip lightly at the girl’s rump and then each thigh in turn. It was the sort of behavior a mature stallion might use to herd a rebellious or reluctant mare, though for him the gesture was intended as nothing more than a game.

He might be fast approaching adulthood, but certain instincts were still asserting themselves— and besides, he could never bring himself to hurt Finch.

When they got to the pond, however, Rivaini’s son shed his boyish mannerisms, and took on the presence of the stallion he was destined to become. Moving up to stand close beside the reddish mare, Hades did not hasten to slake his own thirst, but instead kept watch over her while she drank. Typically he would have taken his own when Finch was finished— but by then, it was evident from the way his companion moved that something had her unsettled. Crowding closer still, the chocolate-colored male laced his ears back and bared his teeth in the direction of the perceived threat— only to soften and calm when she spoke, mentioning a desire to go visit Tinuvel.

Hades was not a verbose creature, and as such it was easy to assume that he couldn’t understand the subtleties of spoken language. To a degree, perhaps that was even true. But he did express himself through the silent language of his body, and as such had learned to read as much into what wasn’t said as what was. Finch had confessed that she wanted to see Tinuvel, and made it sound like nothing more than an urge to explore. But the young stallion knew that that particular island was the one she had originally come from, and he wondered whether there might be some deeper motivation to her desire. And he couldn’t help but to feel the smallest sliver of doubt and fear. Maybe he wasn’t enough. Maybe Finch wanted to go home to her sire and dam. To creatures who could communicate to her with more than silence. Maybe she wanted to go home, as he always would when they left the Ridge behind them for days or even hours.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Hades was incapable of denying the silver bay whatever her heart desired, just as he was incapable of leaving her side. So— nodding his head in agreement— Hades touched his lips to the girl’s shoulders and then tucked his chin into the cradle of her withers.

And desperately hoped that he wouldn’t lose her to the call of her own heart.