The battering ram of a draft chest had shoved Nahawi all the way back to where everything started. His muscled body flexed under a vine maple. Blue eyes flashed with anger as his lips twisted. The stallion's two toned and skewed marked face held wrinkles of frustration and a crease to his eyes that added onto the fact. It was all restarting, begging for him to find Vadim in Salem and disappoint Rehoboam. He could hear Psychadelic’s voice like a slippery blade and he could feel the pain of failure. His heart beat a racing rhythm in his chest at the knowledge of his past, but the stallion just let it all go. His eyes closed as he pulled in a deep breath. That was all then and this was now, a time where he knew he had to make different decisions.

Slowly opening his eyes, the red dun pulled in a breath and turned his head. The warm summer air was slipping against his skin, Sweat pooled behind his ears and in the divots above his eyes. Lather had formed between his back legs and his pits were foamed just the same. Droplets ran down his chest and over his legs, hitting the ground with gentle plops from where the lagoon water rose around his ankles. It was as if he had been running, but in many ways Nahawi had been. His mind had been a mess and he had searched for one place he knew he could live without fear in this bog. Back in his favorite place in all of the ruined mess called the Lagoon, Nahawi looked at the vine maple and the cottonwoods that grew in this space near the commons.

Licking two toned lips, the stallion sucked in a breath before shaking his head. He had been thinking a lot as of late. There were many things to go over, but the worst of all had been seeing not one, but two of his children. Nataanii had acted like Nahawi was no one, but Gitch had come to him with worry upon her face and a red roan filly at her hip. It irked him, seeing a daughter of his already holding a foal at her side. Even now, with all of them gone on their own and him in his own little paradise, he could not get past the feeling of unease at the red roan. She had held something sharp in her gaze, a smirk upon her lips, and a knowing depth to her eyes. She was a different breed than anything he had ever seen, but then he figured it came from Garmr. With a raising of kindness and steady authority, Gitch was smart in her own right with a strength that came from being treated well. This filly was his granddaughter though… and she was a completely different side to genetic mentality that Nahawi did not wish to poke at.


Turning away from where he rested now, Nahawi headed farther from his bed space and to the commons. He could look over the edge, where the scent of the lagoon began to fade and the clean of the fresh land began. He could hear laughter of homeless others and chatter from many that were becoming claimed. He could feel his heart in the commons, where he could be free even if it was with a force claim. Turning his head, he set his gaze on the distance where the peak was barely visible. He could hear the words he spoke to Khar’pern like it was yesterday. He could taste the frustration and sadness like it was only minutes ago. Swallowing the painful pill of reality though, Nahawi turned his face away from that direction when the body of someone he never should have seen again materializes out of almost thin air.

Looking at the bay tobiano, Nahawi felt his breath stutter before the shape of a black tobiano follows. His heart begins to gallop, the beats hard in his chest as his lips open and a pained call escapes his lips. He knew these two and from their own calls in return, Nahawi knew they remembered him. Unable to cross from the Lagoon into the commons though, the red dun just shook his head and cried out again, this time telling them to stay away. This place was not safe, but even his call did not stop the kind hearted Chenoa from coming closer or the strong willed Bidziil. Both horses came closer and when he could taste their scent upon his tongue, a tear fell from his good eye and landed upon the solid ground below. His ruined body trembled before he placed his forehead against the black tobiano, pulling her scent in like a sweet blanket. This was what he needed, even if it was not what should be happening. With the two from his past that mattered, Nahawi let all fall away then as his old love and his first born off of the islands came closer.

“Chenoa… Bidziil.” He rasped, their names coming off of his tongue like a lead weight. This was the first time in almost five years he had seen either of them and it was a wonderful but terrifying surprise that they had now shown up. Pulling away from Chenoa, Nahawi set his gaze upon Bidziil before stepping over to the bay tobiano stallion and wrapping his neck around the boy. Holding him close, Nahawi let out a chest aching sob as his son returned the touch. Both stallions held one another when Chenoa began to speak. “We know about the islands and the Lagoon, Nahawi. Bidziil will be staying with you while I head to the Peak.” Hearing her words, the red dun slowly turned to look at his first love. His brows rose upon his forehead while she just shook her head with a snort. “You cant stop me, no matter what happens Nahawi. You are here and you need Bidziil. Lean on him, not the ones you have created upon the island.” As her words slither through his mind, the mare just smiles and gives him one last parting kiss. “And don’t let yourself fall from grace. You are named Nahawi because you are or at least were Brave. Never forget that.” With her parting words, the black tobiano mare turned away from the stallions and headed the long way to the Peak.

Turning to look at his son after pulling back, Nahawi watched the bay tobiano as he began to smirk. “Brave, Strong, White Dove. What do you expect from a family like us?” The younger stallion was ready and with his body turning, Nahawi looked into the Lagoon with something stirring in his gut. His ears flicked forward as the body of his son stepped forward. Now with Nahawi beaten down as he is, his son stepped forward entirely. Standing before Nahawi with his ears perked forward and a smirk that rivalled Satan's own himself, Bidzill looked over his shoulder at his father. “Lets give these guys one hell of a run for their money, eh?”