Note: I have deemed it necessary to change the T rating of the story to M, due to violence, strong language and references to intimate encounters that are way more apparent in this installment than any of my other stories. Hopefully this won't be a setback for my followers. As I mentioned few chapters ago, the story will most likely be updated once a week or every other week, (depends on my schedule) either on Fridays or on the Weekends. Thanks a million for the wonderful reviews and for sharing your opinions. I truly appreciate the constant support. And now, let's get on with our new chapter.


Chapter 19

Spirited Away

"The world is a vampire, sent to drain. Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames.

And what do I get, for my pain? Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game." – Bullet with Butterfly Wings


Rising from the fire like a phoenix, ash was morphing into flights of flaming darts. And shadows marked the fringes of light extinguishing all unwary sparks. All the eyes followed the rhythmic flow that blazed in the middle, sharing the warmth and beauty in the cold, winter's night. Bursts of laughter, drums, songs and brotherhood fueled the Lakota campfire, as though unifying the tribe with its flickering flames. There was serene tranquility...peacefulness that saturated the soul and it truly felt like genuine magic when all the worries and anxieties ceased, and instead were replaced by harmony.

While the two-leggeds found peace and calmness in each other's presence, their four-legged companions were soaking up the heat of the blazing flames along with their own herd mates. How wonderful it was when everyone lived in tranquil consonance.

"...and so, beautiful warhorse you will be, showing native pride by standing next to your great warrior's side. Our hair is always braided up both tail and mane to keep the bow and arrow of the rider free for the right aim. Eagle feathers are woven into our manes as a symbol of speed and agility. An eagle feather is earned, not given free, just like your mother had to earn hers. Colors, symbols, are picked by our owners; some have circle around the eyes as it stands for alert vision. Zigzag running down the neck, red and white...red represents war, mourning and peace finite. Painted horses will always be the pride of the tribe...and if you'll be very good, you too will become the prized addition to our courageous society. Now sleep tight, sweet, little one. For you have a great deal to learn once you'll join our complicated but wonderful world." River, the bay gelding finished his story-telling to Rain's swelled stomach and pushed his legs up to standing position.

"Wow..." Entertained Rain remarked with a smirk. "That's a lot of information for someone who isn't even born yet." She teased, as she lay, nestled by warm piles of hay next to the gentle Aranda, her legs comfortably tucked under her belly. Both of the mares were resting for the evening, while River took it upon himself to keep them and the unborn foal some company.

"Well, the foal needs to be ready for the responsibilities." River explained simply, shaking the dust from his coat. "And besides, Great Conquest designated me to talk to your little one in his absence at least once a day. Apparently, it's very essential for their development; they can hear and sense everything we say."

"Great Conquest is so well informed; it's kind of surprising." Commented Aranda, looking over at Rain. "I've never seen a stallion so involved in the upbringing of a foal...a foal that is not even his to being with."

Rain couldn't help but giggle at that statement. "My pregnancy is his winter project, and even from far away he manages to dote over us."

"To be honest with you, we are all so excited to see whether the foal will be a colt or a filly. We even made a small bet about it." Eagerly spoke up River. "Great Conquest believes it'll be a colt, Blossom said filly, Blaze said colt and I'm saying filly. The losers will collect all the apples and offer them to the winners."

"Sounds like fun." Aranda nickered warmly. "I also agree with Blaze and Great Conquest... I think it'll be a colt."

"Not a chance!" River shook his head, quite sure of himself. "You better start collecting those apples now."

"Arrogance loses in the end, just so you know, young horse." Aranda responded wittily and let her eyes shift on the quiet Rain. "What do you think Rain? Will it be a colt or a filly? Mother's intuition is usually the correct one."

"Um, I'm not sure..." The paint mare replied sheepishly. "I'll be glad either way. But I think that Little Creek wants to know what it's like to raise a colt this time."

"See? Your owner agrees with me." Aranda neighed victoriously. "It'll be a colt!"

"No, it'll be a filly!" River argued. "Trust me, Silver Moon's stomach was bloated when she had her colt, but Rain's not so large...it can only mean that she'll have a filly."

"That's the silliest reasoning I've ever heard." Aranda huffed, rolling her eyes at the imprudent young horse.

What followed this was another round of loud exclamations about why their opinion was the accurate one, but Rain seemed to lose herself for a moment as the voices around her faded and died down. Her blue eyes focused on the campfire that burned low, scent of wood and smoke rising higher. She closed her eyes, taking a small inhale.

A golden-dun stallion and a bright, painted mare strolled in the active camp of the Lakota village. Both of them intently observing the two-leggeds as they prepared food, while their hungry little children waited in anticipation. A dapple-grey mare, followed by her yearling colt, passed the couple with a polite nicker. The stallion smiled at the two, his face lighting up.

He looked back at the young mare beside him, his tender gaze searching for her eyes. "How about it?"

"How about what?" The mare knitted her brows in confusion.

The stallion chuckled, naughty expression animating his handsome countenance. "Oh I think you know exactly what I mean, pretty mare." He winked mischievously.

The mare shot him a questionable look, pursing her lips with a sly smirk.

That made the stallion laugh even more, leaning closer, he brushed his muzzle on her nose gently, his eyes twinkling brightly. "How about a pretty little filly, looking exactly like her beautiful dam?"

"Rain..."

"...Rain?"

The paint mare blinked her blue eyes open and was immediately brought back to the present. She jerked her head towards the inquisitive expressions of River and Aranda.

"Rain, are you listening?"

"Ah...um, sorry...I was...what were you two saying?"

"We asked if you had any names in mind for your foal." River repeated.

"No, not yet. I'm not in a hurry." Rain told him softly. "I think the right calling will come to me once the foal is born."

"I agree, my child." Nodded Aranda. "That's the wisest decision."

Short minute of silence seemed to pass over the three calm individuals, when suddenly River broke the stillness with his curiosity. "What about Spirit? Did he want a colt or a filly?"

"River!" Aranda snapped at him, knowing that memories of the wild stallion would only hurt Rain's already shattered heart.

"Sorry. I was just wondering." Retorted River.

"You don't have to answer him, Rain." Aranda spoke to the quiet, young mare in a motherly fashion.

"No, it's okay...that's actually a good question, because I'm not too sure..." Rain paused for a moment, her gaze concentrated on the far-off landscapes, where she believed the Cimarron herd galloped beside the spirited stallion. Their lively images seemed to take form before her very own eyes. Spirit running across his wild lands, followed by the lovely palomino mare and the rest of the horses as the eagle flew above them, crying of freedom and majestic beauty of the untamed world in which they lived.

"A filly...I think he wanted a filly." Rain confessed with a faint, sad smile tucking her lips.


In the very early hours of dawn when everyone was still sleeping sound, and the blaze of the fire was no longer burning, but rather reduced to embers on the ground, a distanced bark of a dog stirred Aranda from her dozing state. Thin wisps of smoke rose, a visions of ethereal silhouette of a mare reaching high, and yet it disappeared in wistful sighs before reaching the dawning sky. Then she heard a far away neigh...it was a desperate call. Aranda's nostrils flared as she forced her body to stand up, the smell of the scent of campfire was distinct but there was also something else...something new. Strange smells were swirling all around her. She jumped at the realization and looked over where Sierra and Storm's daughter was supposed to be. Alas! The rope that tied Aranda to the young paint was cut and the filly was nowhere in sight.

"Rain!" The mare called in panic. There came no answer. "Rain, where are you?!" Her voice trembled in alarm, overtaken by terror.

Some of the herd mates that rested nearby, threw up their heads in answer. "Aranda? What's bothering you?" The chestnut stallion, Red trotted over to her, sounding slightly annoyed at the older mare's noisy cries at such an early hour of daybreak.

"It's Rain! She's gone!" Aranda neighed frantically. "The rope has been cut by a knife. Someone has taken her!"

"What?" The stallion exclaimed in shock. "That's impossible. We would've sensed if strangers had come in the night."

"We have dulled our senses once again." Mourned the older mare. "There was a strange presence and we didn't pay attention to it." Tears leaked from her eyes as she looked up to the sky. "Oh Rain, what has become of you? Please...stay safe. Stay safe."

Rain never knew how the men had caught her. She had not seen them in the late hours of midnight, when every human and horse retired to rest. They had been very silent, cunning and had purposefully stood on the outskirts of the village so that the wind directed their scent to the other side and away from the camp. Her sharp senses however, still apprehended that a stranger had come to her, but before she could make a sound and awaken the sleeping Aranda next to her, the rope, which connected her to the gentle mare, was swiftly cut and she was lassoed by the pale-faced two-legged, who was mounted on a very frightening and unique looking stallion, that kept sending shudders down her spine every time he snorted. His reddish eyes terrorized her and before she knew what was happening, they were all galloping away from the village.

The night's harsh blizzard seemed to maneuver her and her desperate squeals were subdued by the roaring wind. Rain only knew that in the immense, twisting wind, the flailing ice, and the flying sticks and branches, a man, whose horse was quite beyond like any stallion she had ever seen, galloped alongside her for quite a distance, driven by the wind. The stallion was so swift, so frightening...so different. The terror of the storm and the devilish looking horse had filled Rain so that she was unable even to think of the man, or to realize, as they neared the end of the valley, that another man had come up on the other side – two men were now encircling her as though she were their prey.

Rain could only think of the ice-filled air, the great tearing wind, the branches and leaves hurtling by the thick air that roared, lifting her with it. Even when the rope encompassed her lithe neck she thought a branch had hit her. Blood was running down her shoulder from a deep cut made by an arrow of ice. The rope flying unseen through the driven ice was just something else out of the storm to bruise and cut. She madly galloped on. The rope tightened, but there was so much terror within her, even in the air that, for a moment, she felt no additional fear. The wind was flogging her, beating her, lashing her. As she tried to race ahead from between the two men, she came to a horrific realization that the bruised feeling round her neck was something actually there, holding her against her will – that she was roped and held strongly by a pale-faced man. That same man that had been creeping about the Lakota territory...the one that she and Great Conquest had spotted almost a month ago. Horrified suddenly, beyond any horror of the storm... the horror like a madness rising within her – Rain propped with her hooves dug into the mud, sitting back on her haunches, but the rope bit in cruelly like a burning bite on her neck: the men and their horses were ready. The rope was paid out to hold her, and the second man halted, pivoted round, and was back beside her in a flash, lying his whip across her rump with a light, commanding touch that sent a colder chill through her than any real cut.

Rain sprang forward, tingling from ears to toes. The rope bit into her neck again. She was caught. Held between the two men and roped, they could now force her whither they willed. She had never experienced anything so unpleasant and disturbing amongst the two-leggeds. Never in her short life had she been handled so roughly and forcefully by humans. So, this is how Spirit must have felt when he had been captured.

She screamed in terror, panic seizing her as she began to worry for her unborn foal. The winter tornado passed, leaving its drifts of ice like snow, and its swathe of broken and uprooted branches all around the territory. The two men forced her into the smashed forest on the ridge, and they were high up in the trees above the Lakota's settlement. As the morning light struck the sky, she heard Aranda's desolate neigh. Rain answered, sending her a warning cry: then she went wild with fear and anger. If it was a fight they wanted, she'd give them a good fight. She felt a storm of blood rise within her, beating, surging. There, below some high ash trees with their heads all broken, their branches and bark hanging, she abruptly pulled back, she lay down, she kicked and struck with all the strength she could gather, she reared and struck again. Her neat hooves cleft the air and struck flesh. She was not going to let them take her! She had to fight for herself and her unborn little one. There was no way that she would give in. She had become crazed with determination to get away from her captors.

Rain's blue eyes were wild, her nose was pinched, the nostrils fiery red. The stocky man with the rope let it out and took it in, as she pulled back or rushed towards his solid brown gelding. The younger man, mounted on the frightening stallion, cracked a whip beside her and let it fall lightly on her rump, but never hard enough to cut her beautiful paint hide. But as Rain desperately fought on, the men lost some of their coolness, and their less expert handling made her feel even wilder and stronger, so that she fought them like a demon, and, while they were trying to keep her paint coat unmarked, and took it easy on her for not wanting to accidentally harm her unborn foal, their own horses, however, were slashed by her hooves till the blood ran. It was quite evident that neither of those men had expected the filly to react so savagely and give them so much trouble. They were very taken aback. She no longer resembled a calm, domesticated, well-mannered young mare. It was as though they had roped a wild Mustang and ripped her away from her untamed homeland. There wasn't a single ounce of domestication in Rain at that very moment.

She fought and fought until the Arabian stallion became so furious with her antics that suddenly, and without the owner's consent, lunged at her and gave her a severe, brutal thrash on the flank, almost knocking her backwards and on to the ground.

"Hey! Whoa, Diablo!" Johnny tightened his reins on the raging stallion, pulling him away from the mare. "Whoa!"

Rain was flecked with foam and streaked with sweat, as she attempted to keep herself from stumbling and from the devilish horse's reach. When she was at last exhausted and unable to move, the rope was still round her neck and she was held captive by the pale-faced. With one man pulling her and one driving her onwards, they took her off somewhere. She wasn't exactly sure where their destination lay, but she was frightened of the cruel, unfeeling stallion. The stallion, who, given the chance, would without doubt mercilessly kill her. She was so tired that she could only think of how she longed to lie down... just to lie undisturbed on the wet, storm-marked ground beneath the great trees. Her legs dragged on slowly, as she tried to keep her tears concealed. She constantly looked at her stomach, hoping that her unborn foal was alright.

All of a sudden, there was a confused, rushing sound in Rain's ears. When the sound cleared away she could hear the whispering bush … then she thought she saw something … but the men pulled and drove her and she was too exhausted to struggle any longer, too tired to focus her attention on anything that might be moving through the forest. She went on, not fighting but still resisting, leaning backwards on the rope, moving slowly, and at last she looked to the right, straight through the trees, and thought she saw a shadowy form of a horseman. On she plodded, staring furtively, and not too often, through the bush to try to make certain whether or not it was just a dream of shadows flitting, a dream of her caring owner and friend. Wearily she plodded on, and each time she dug in her hooves and pulled back, the rope cut her neck, the lash of the whip stung her flank or her rump. Even so she kept pulling back, and while she leaned all her weight on the rope she rolled her eyes sideways to see if that strange horseman kept close. Each time she looked the warrior and his horse still seemed to be there, coming towards her. It gave her strength to know they were nearing her. Could it be Little Creek and Great Conquest? Could they succeed in freeing her?

"And look what we have here." Gus spoke up as the Lakota brave on his grey stallion, emerged from the cover of the bushes. It was very obvious that the boy had not been expecting to meet the pale-faced or to see his precious mare captured. He was on his way of returning to the village when he was met with this unforseen situation. "The dirty Injun has found us way earlier than we had predicted!"

"Told you." Smiled Johnny maliciously and pulled a pistol, aiming at the frozen, shocked Little Creek. "Get off your horse and come with us. Now!" He threatened.

Rain let out a warning cry, urging Great Conquest to gallop away with Little Creek on his back, so that at least they could be safe, but neither of them moved. Little Creek remained silent for a moment, tense air cracking among them, and suddenly sprang forward, impulsively snatching his bow and arrow. Johnny, however, was way quicker as he pulled the trigger and to Rain's utter horror, there was a familiar, sickeningly deafening sound of exploding gun fire. Rain watched in terror as Little Creek was instantly shot and knocked right from Great Conquest's back, who in turn, reared frantically, and swiftly bolted from the scene, disappearing in the forest.

Before Rain could realize whether her human was alive or not, the man who had fired his gun, dismounted from his horse and seized the panting Little Creek, vigorously pulling him up from the ground and on his feet. In no time, the white man managed to tie Little Creek's hands together and forcefully pushed him up on Rain's back.

"That wasn't very smart of you." Johnny shook his head as he climbed on his own steed again.

"Dirty Indians are stupid as they come." Gruffly commented Gus, who was still firmly holding Rain with the end of his lasso.

Little Creek was too hurt to say anything; he rested his head on Rain's neck, unable to support his own body weight. Rain's heart meanwhile, kept thumping hard as tears continuously rolled down her cheek. This was such a nightmare. She could feel Little Creek's blood dripping down on her, staining her hide and shivered. She could also hear his heavy, strained breathing, which made her even more anxious and she began to fear for his life.

"Hang on..." Rain nickered. "You'll be alright. I'm sure Great Conquest will find help." She whispered to herself, trying to find comfort in staying optimistic.

Then the pressure on her neck doubled and she felt a whip touch her haunches, and once again she was forced to keep following after the two ruthless men and one demon looking stallion.


As the evening dawned on the ranges of the untamed west, a young, lone traveler came to a halt at the edge of his sire's territory and took a heavy inhale. His brown eyes shifted from the mob of mares, foals, his beautiful mother and noble sire Flint, and towards the smaller herd that foraged next to the main band through the snow, munching on the dried grass that was hidden under the white covers. His attention mostly lay in that particular group, whose stallion was an arrogant silver grullo. Bolder allowed himself to breathe again, trying to shake off the negative, anxious sensations from his mind. He had come this far already – he wasn't about to turn away. He had to finish what he had started. Swallowing a tight knot that formed in his throat out of nervousness, the blood-bay stallion assumed the most confident and bold posture he could master, and as was accustomed to a handsome horse as himself, proudly strode over to meet his distanced family.

Beauty, the lead mare of Flint's band and the youngest full sister of the deceased Strider, was the first to detect the familiar scent of her firstborn. When she suddenly jolted her head upright, Flint's ears perked forward as he stared over where his mate's focus was fixated.

"Why, if it isn't the coward of the century!" Scornfully announced grumpy Azogar, moving forward to get a good look at his nephew.

Bolder was met by his loving mother half-way and they nuzzled affectionately. "I've missed you so, my son." Beauty said softly, relieved to see her firstborn safe and sound, despite all the troubling rumours that she had heard about him.

"I've missed you too, mother." Gently nickered Bolder as he brushed his nose on her cheek. Once the dam and her offspring exchanged a tender greeting, Beauty backed away to allow Flint to salute their son.

"To what do I owe this unforetold pleasure?" The respected stallion remarked. "How is it that you've come to visit us?"

"To be honest, I'm not entirely here to see you, my dear parents." Bolder admitted modestly. "I've come because I found out that Azogar was staying here for the winter. I'm here for my uncle."

Flint and Beauty glanced at each other in surprise, while Azogar, who had been standing in the back all this time, instantly lunged at him. "Me?! How dare you show your disgraceful self to me after what you did, you no-good waste of space!" He furiously bared his teeth at the blood-bay, his eyes rolling in his sockets in deep resentment, as he pushed Bolder with a rude shove.

"Azogar! Let's not get physical for no reason." Flint warned, his voice rising in anger.

"He doesn't need you protecting his hide." The silver grullo hissed at his older brother, but backed down anyway.

"I'm not here to start up a fight." Bolder restarted the conversation calmly as he regained his composure, his tranquil eyes shifting towards his frustrated uncle in remorse. "I've come to make peace with you. You deserve an apology after what I did. I'm sorry for using you and lying to you."

"An apology?" Flint repeated in shock, not understanding why his son owed his foolish brother any kind of apology. After all, in Flint's mind, Bolder had done nothing wrong...the young stallion had only played his games wisely and cunningly in order to get himself a mare.

"Yes, I was not honest with him." Nodded the Lone Stallion regretfully. "I behaved just like any stallion on the prairie would, and yet I had promised myself that I wasn't going to be like them. I betrayed the trust of my uncle...I betrayed my family. I'm sorry, uncle. Please, accept my apology and let us start from the beginning." He lowered his head to the ground, bowing to Azogar in deferential manner.

"An apology, huh?" The silver grullo snorted, glowering down at him with contempt. "Well, my dear nephew,...you can take that apology and stick it up your–"

"Azogar!" Flint fumed, as he gave his impertinent younger brother a firm nip on the neck. "I won't tolerate any sort of crudeness or disrespect in my herd. I do realize that this state of affair doesn't concern me, but since you are both in my territory, I expect you to at least solve your problems civilly."

Azogar didn't say anything, however his evil glare was enough to let both father and son know that he was not at all pleased. Bolder let out a sharp exhale from his lungs before looking at his uncle again. He knew that Flint did not blame him of the fallout he had with his uncle, but still it didn't matter. Whether Azogar as a whole was right or wrong, or whether he deserved to be tricked so cunningly was not a valid justification for Bolder's actions and he knew it. In a way, it was the grullo's fault for being imprudent enough as to fall for Bolder's untrue words of advice, but his foolishness did not signify that Bolder - his nephew - had any rights to mislead and use him. Which was exactly why the young loner had determined to apologize to him and make amends with his boisterous uncle. They were family...they had the same blood running in their veins.

"Azogar, please...I wasn't thinking clearly." Continued Bolder ashamedly. "When I realized that you were after the only mare I've ever wanted, I just got so blinded by my jealousy and anger." He explained, his tone conveying penitent thoughts.

"Aww, now you want me to feel sorry for you?" The grullo horse scoffed. "Unbelievable!"

"No, I simply want to make things right again. I ask for your forgiveness, uncle. We are family and there shouldn't be any bad blood between us."

Flint and Beauty observed their firstborn son in admiration. It was rare to see a young, bachelor stallion care for anything else besides obtaining fillies. Their son was truly an odd one...but in a good way. He valued his family, he acknowledged his flaws, he was polite, calm, collected, did not hold grudges and on top of it all, was an excellent warrior. He had a true bold soul, and yet never flaunted it. He was pretty much perfect. Flint was shocked that mares weren't throwing themselves at him by now. Perhaps, his only imperfection lay in the fact that he had chosen to be a solitary creature? That decision alone, was enough to repulse any mare on the land. A horse could not exist in isolation...it was unheard of. Their species were social creatures and no horse could lead a good satisfactory life in lonesomeness. There was a reason why they all lived in herds. Safety was in numbers and it seemed as though Bolder did not comprehend that on purpose. Either way, Flint and Beauty both hoped that their son's solitary life was a phase and that he would soon come back to his senses.

"You don't deserve my forgiveness." Azogar said harshly, after a moment of contemplation. "You tricked me and made a complete fool out of me!"

"Oh, come on!" An annoyed girlish nicker made the small group stare over at the herd. Raven's daughter came into view, as she half timidly, half confidently neared the four horses. "You forgave me and accepted me in your band, so why can't you forgive Bolder as well?" She demanded from Azogar, narrowing her eyes at him in vexation.

"Nova? What are you doing here?" The Lone Stallion's jaw hung open.

The filly of Raven and Sirius, however, ignored his question and instead, continued glaring at the grullo horse before her, who was becoming uncomfortable with her piercing gaze. "Seriously...just accept his apology and be done with it."

"Oh, fine." Sighed Azogar, shaking his neck proudly. "I suppose I could forgive you too, nephew...eventually."

Bolder was no longer listening to Azogar, all of his awareness and attentiveness had been stolen by Nova. He walked towards her in confusion. "I don't understand...why are you here?" He asked in a low nicker, his eyes never leaving her. Nova dropped her gaze and shyly looked at the ground.

"She's here because she finally realized who the best stallion in the West is." Announced Azogar in his conceited and distasteful fashion. "Isn't it right, my dear?" He smugly nudged Nova, who nodded in agreement but did not lift her eyes from the ground.

"What happened? Why did you leave Spirit?" Bolder kept pressuring her for a truthful answer. "I can't believe this. You're with Azogar? What are you thinking?"

"Excuse me?" Gasped the offended Azogar. "And to think, a mere second ago he was apologizing." He commented to the silent Flint and Beauty.

Bolder paid no heed to Azogar's snarky remarks, he was too concentrated on the filly before him. "Nova, look at me!" He told her firmly. "What happened? What have you done?"

"What have I done?" The young mare locked eyes with him at last, her emotions running high in indignation. "Nothing! I was just sick and tired of being everyones second choice."

"What? What are you talking about?" Frowned Bolder.

"All Spirit cares about is his Rain! Even though she has abandoned him!" Cried the mare as the horrid memories of her heartbreak rushed back into her mind. "And you are obsessed with this capricious Rain as well, so why are you pretending like my life choices matter to you at all?"

"You're being ridiculous." Bolder blinked in stunned puzzlement. It was safe to say that he wasn't expecting such a revelation from Nova. He always thought of her as someone with a very clever head on her shoulders. This was so unlike her...

"Oh, am I?" Challenged the mare angrily. "I know my worth and I'm done playing second fiddle to that domesticated pet! You and Spirit can kill each other for her if you want. I don't care anymore!" She spat in agitation and turned away from Bolder, ready to end the heated conversation, but the stallion was swift enough to stop her in her tracks.

"This isn't you, Nova." He spoke to her softly. "You are hurt, upset and you are lashing out. This isn't you. The Nova I know would never settle for this life to spite others. After all you went through to get away from Azogar, you come back to him in the end? Nova, what is wrong with you? I thought you were smarter than this." He lectured, his heart becoming heavy with sadness.

"Remind me how you wanted to apologize again?" Azogar muttered in the background. "Not a minute has gone by and this loser is already trying to steal my mare. You ass!" He raged, but did not make an aggressive advance on his nephew. Whether it was because of Flint standing there, or whether he was wary of challenging Bolder himself was unclear, but something was certainly holding him back.

"This may not be the smartest decision." Agreed Nova, looking at no one but Bolder. "However, at least, I'm Azogar's first choice and I don't have to be in Rain's constant shadow."

"Are you serious?" Bolder's eyes widened, his expressions transporting stupefied confusion. "First of all, that's a lie! Azogar's first choice was Rain as well. That's why he and I had such a huge disagreement in the first place. And second of all, no offence to you, uncle, but he'll take any mare that has an ability to come into cycle. What is wrong with you, Nova?" Harshly rebuked Bolder, shaking his head in utter disappointment. "Have a little respect for yourself!"

"Virgin alert!" Exclaimed Azogar obnoxiously, as he trotted up to his nephew and postured, pounding his legs and throwing snow around him. "Nobody wants a relationship advice from an inexperienced, lonely little colt, so why don't you do us all a favor and back the fuck off?"

"Flint, please, do something." Beauty begged her mate, once she realized that the situation was becoming even more tense by the second.

"Shh...we are the quiet onlookers." Flint whispered to her calmly. "Our son is old enough to take care of himself." Beauty whimpered at her stallion's stern words, nevertheless, she remained composed, hoping that there wouldn't be any ugly fights between her firstborn and Azogar.

Bolder and Azogar came face to face, almost touching noses as the silver grullo horse threw sprinkles of fire with his raging glare.

"I'm sorry, uncle, but Nova is not thinking straight. Let her go, she isn't herself. Don't take advantage of her." Peaceably implored the young blood-bay, ignoring Nova's gasps of protest.

"I see what you're doing, you insolent coward." Concluded Azogar, gritting his teeth at him. "You are too afraid to fight and challenge me for her and therefore came up with an easy way out."

"No, that's not–"

"I'm sorry, what? Does the little virgin have something to say?" The grullo horse thrust his nephew with a vigorous ram, making him stumble backwards.

"Uncle please, don't start–" Desperately entreated Bolder, hating how things were slowly coming out of control, but he was still trying his best to remain level-headed.

"Shut your hole! You coward!" Exclaimed the furious Azogar. "You are a lying manipulator."

Flint suddenly let out a loud, throat-clearing noise, in order to draw attention towards himself, which proved quite successful. When Bolder and Azogar looked over at him questionably, Flint prompted to speak. "This may sound like a biased opinion, but Azogar...I would suggest you stay cautious when it comes to testing my son. You call him a coward, and yet have forgotten that this young stallion, here, was the only horse that battled a great, bison bull and won. He is also the only stallion that challenged the son of Strider and was unbeaten by him. So be careful, my dear brother...that is, if you don't want your ass to get trashed."

"He doesn't require you to lift his tail!" Azogar spat, staring at the father and son in hostility. "As you said, this isn't your affair."

"Oh, I know that. I'm simply looking out for you, brother." Flint shrugged.

"I'm not here to start a fight!" Declared Bolder, who was more than done with the craziness around him. "And I'm not stealing anyone from you, uncle. Nova doesn't love you...she is in love with Spirit and the only reason she joined your herd is because she's mad and heartbroken. Do you really think taking advantage of her vulnerable state is chivalrous? Please, just let her go. You are better than this."

Azogar grunted, rolling his eyes at him in disgust. "I'm not holding her here against her will. She is free to do as she pleases. Nova, do you want to leave?" He turned to the filly innocently.

"No, and I would kindly appreciate if Bolder stayed away from my business." The young mare responded sharply, glaring at the young stallion in displeasure.

"She is not thinking clearly right now." The blood-bay stallion told his uncle plainly. "Don't listen to her mad words. Just escort her back to her family."

"Hmm...and why would I want to do that?"

"Because deep down you are gallant and honourable and would never use a mare to suit your selfish desires. Once again, I ask that you understand Nova's desperation and let her leave. She is only here because of her anger at Spirit. That's all."

"You don't know that!" Screamed Nova, her pride was hurting and she felt ashamed and 'exposed' by Bolder's assertions about her. "Stop prying your nose in my life!"

"Okay, so let me get this straight: You don't want Nova for yourself, but you want me to let her go because she is upset at another stallion? I'm very confused." Azogar blinked and stared over at Flint, waiting for some kind of explanation from him, but his older brother was just as confused as he.

"Something like that."

"You are an idiot." Azogar derided and couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud.

"If you two can't agree, why don't you challenge each other and the winner keeps the filly?" Flint proposed, eager to solve their ongoing quarrel once and for all.

"Flint!" Beauty gasped and pushed him, completely outraged. "Are you crazy?"

"Well, that's how stallions solve misunderstandings, especially when it comes to mares."

The blood-bay sighed sorrowfully. No one seemed to understand what he was hoping to accomplish. It was as though everyone had their own way of comprehending his point of view.

"I don't want to fight my uncle. I came here to make peace with him, father. And I'll try to keep that promise." Bolder spoke gently and let his eyes rest on the young mare. "Nova, you are of course, free to stay wherever you wish and with whoever you wish, but I'm worried about you. One day, you might turn back and regret this reckless decision." Saying this, the young, disappointed stallion gazed at the filly one last time and trotted away from his father's territory.

"What else can one expect from a virgin..." Mumbled Azogar to himself as his dark glare followed the departing figure of the young stallion, who currently broke into a fast canter and was swiftly out of their sight. "Nova, listen, don't pay attention to...Nova?... Nova?" The silver grullo glanced around and came to a sudden realization that the pretty mare was no longer among them. "Where did she go?" He questioned the silent Flint and Beauty, completely stunned at the strange turn of events.

"Did she evaporate?"