It had started as embers burning in his belly, and at the boy grew, so did his yearning to return the the place he’d been born, and where he believed his mother would be safer. He tried to help her, promising he’d try to stay awake so she could sleep. But he could not fight his exhaustion, and even though none of the other horses in the endless-seeming open expanse of flatlands where Lavender had been taken had threatened harm, his mother was very on edge.
She said it was supposed to be their new home, and there were certainly a lot fewer scents of stallions on the wind, but after his baby siblings were born, she only got worse.
Kythri had to do something, and he thought maybe if he went and found Kyber, maybe he would know how to help Lavender. He’d been gone for a while, but Kythri knew that she thought of him still, though the times she allowed herself to whisper his name with a hopeful voice when there were rustling sounds and moving shadows in the dark became less and less, Kythri still saw the tension in her.
She couldn’t swim, not when she was looking after his baby brother and sister, but Kythri could swim. He’d done it before, alongside Lavender, but he was a bit bigger and stronger now, so he could make it by himself. He had to.
The last few days he’d spent exploring the beach, watching the waves and secretly planning his venture. The twins had been awake and tentatively exploring up until late afternoon, so Kythri stayed to help keep an eye on them, nuzzling at Lavender’s cheek before promising he’d be back later.
Technically it was true; he was leaving with the intention of coming back. But still he lingered at the tideline, and looked over his shoulder to cast his gaze inland, wind whipping at his lengthening mane. Kythri’s heart lurched in his chest, but before his courage failed him, he turned and plunged into the sea.
By the time he dragged himself ashore on the Crossing, dragging his hooves and splashing through the shallows, the yearling was spent. Kythri’s quaking legs collapsed beneath him, so that he splayed in the sand, chest heaving, breathing ragged.
Before he could recover, he caught sight of a figure moving along the treeline toward him in his peripheral vision, and instinct had him on his feet, ready to flee, but a familiar voice calling after him had the colt stumbling and turning back, still breathless, squinting in to try focus in the dim light. "L-Lux, is that you?"
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