Everything happened so quickly. One moment he was screaming out for his dam to flee the approaching stallion, the next there was a dangerous rumbling he could feel deep in the ground that grew in volume and sensation with each passing second. Before long a blur of black and gold and white and long, flowing hair came surging out of the shadowed jungle and made right for the cruel paint stallion who’d advanced on Talya. Kestrel froze, suddenly forgetting his attempt to free himself from the stubborn root that’s caught his hoof, watching the events unfold before him.
It wasn’t until the stallion slumped to the ground and released his last breath that Kestrel finally felt a semblance of himself return. His eyes jumped quickly up from the now-dead body, the first he’d seen, and up to the great stallion who’d come surging into the jungles and managed to save them. As much as he would’ve liked to offer gratitude, Kestrels tongue felt swollen, heart still beating with panicked, hard thumps in his chest, making him ache clear up his throat.
It was almost cruel how easy it was to wiggle his back hoof out from beneath the root; just a few short, dedicated tugs and pushes were needed as he studied it. Freed, the young stallion lurched upward, easily ignoring any aches or bruises that were present with his focus completely now on his mother and nothing else. Even the slow trickle of blood down his crest and shoulder was ignored; he’d feel the sting later, but it didn’t matter now. He limped toward his mother, where she was standing still as the trees, blue eyes transfixed on the crumpled body a few feet away from her. “Mom,” he said, his voice quiet, strained, and scratchy, “Mom are you okay?” He cleared the roughness from his throat.
Talya still hadn’t looked away from the body; Kestrel found he didn’t want to see it at all. He moved closer, enough he could strain his neck and investigate the shadow of ferns at his mother’s back, where his new sibling had fled into. The little cream face had poked out among the leaves, but fear had her eyes wide, and he could see confusion, too. She was too young to understand anything that’d happened, and Kestrel could only hope this memory would be wiped clear for her as she grew older.
“Mom…” he tried again now that he was standing next to her. Talya didn’t even twitch an ear in his direction – she just kept staring. Kestrel swallowed back the sickness that immediately rose as he glanced down too, looking at the still-body growing slowly cold. A shiver crawled down his spine and he turned slowly back, reaching out almost tentatively before he pushed his lips to his mother’s shoulder. He nudged her a little forcefully, enough to make her shift her weight. “Take my sibling away from here,” he instructed, finding some firmness in his voice where he felt like he didn’t have any, nor did he feel he had any authority to. But his mother did not deny him. She blinked, pulled one hoof back, and turned herself slowly way to retreat the way her daughter had fled. It almost appeared as if she was moving in a sort of dream-like state with disbelief and shock etched onto her face. She gave one last lingering glance at the fallen figure and then finally left.
Kestrel watched her form retreat slowly into the jungle, knowing he’d need to follow her soon and keep an eye on her after all of this, but ultimately feeling rather… lost. He knew there were things he wasn’t understanding and likely never would, but he felt too tired to try and figure any of it out. Instead, he glanced back over his roan-flecked haunches, purposefully making sure not to look at the dead body lying on the ground, and looked instead at the stallion who’d saved him, his mother, and his new sibling. “Thank you,” he offered, but the words felt empty. There was no way he could say enough to fully express what gratitude he felt for the stallion; without him, Kestrel would have watched his newborn sibling die, maybe even his mother, and maybe had to beg for death himself.
He only lingered the briefest of moments longer before he turned to leave and trail the path his mother made; her cream figure still visible up ahead. Maybe it was rude to leave so quickly after everything that had happened, but Kestrel had no interest in letting his mother out of his sight. If the large stallion wanted to question him about anything that’d happened here, Kestrel had a feeling he would follow. If not, he could remain here in this space, where Psychedelic’s body would be left to rot away on the one island out of them all he’d loved the most.
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