Reynard’s irritation (if that’s truly what it was) concerning his twin Cheri was secretly harbored by his father Yan, even though the elder stallion might be hard-pressed to admit it. Borderline had rolled her eyes and made light of the situation, and when Amarine had settled back into home for the long recuperation she deserved, the jewel-spotted mare had tried to console him with the notion that it was just what mares did. That hardly made it easier, though.

“I’m not ready for her to grow up so quickly.” He sighed wordlessly, gliding through the bracken of the still-recouping woodlands. He’d just returned home from the flower crowning at Leilan’s midsummer festival up north, a surprise ending to the ceremony that was as unexpected as it was begrudgingly tolerated. Yan was sure Leilan and Nashua would be laughing about the expression on his face for weeks to come. At least the flower “crown” made up for him had sat nicely over his horns. “It tasted even better.” Yan distracted himself, laughing.

Maybe… maybe things were getting better. Despite the horror of the Eclipse and the fear he quietly tried to battle every evening as the sun went down, Yanhua felt optimistic that balance would return. Lilliana was gone and her absence felt like a voidless hole inside of him, but it was manageable with Nashua’s help and open heart. He was lucky to have a twin who made time for him despite the many duties each shared, and together they distributed the weight of losing their dam a second time evenly between them, which Yan appreciated.

He understood how Rey might feel alone, and coming across his sapling-aged son in a piney grove of marked trees Yanhua paused, intent on conversing with the young stallion to make up for lost time between them. “Reynard my boy!” He whinnied deeply, no affection lost in the brassy tenor of his voice. “How goes it?” His father asked of him, stopping alongside the charming, floppy-eared youngster to admire the deep gouges he’d made while sharpening his horns.

YANHUA

“Okay? You guess?” Yan scrutinized the slender, elder twin of his and Amarine’s making. Reynard had a happy youth in the beginning, filled with vigor and an appreciation for learning that put his siblings to shame long before Cheri discovered her healing. But this: the mature outline of a stallion who would tower like the redwoods and turn heads wherever he went, uncertain? This was different. “I’m worried about your siblings, worried about your mother and Borderline, worried about Taiga and positively distraught over you.” He sighed, shaking his head until the golden tassels hanging down from his chin began to sway.

A light, bemused smirk fixed itself to his lips when he stopped. “So just fine myself.”

He strode forward, at ease in the company of a horse he’d helped raise from a colt. Yanhua’s mood was tempered and calm as ever when he reached up to grasp one of his boy’s horns between his teeth. He shook the thing softly, testing its strength and feeling its newly sharpened, honed edges when he let go. Reynard was growing them perfectly, just the way Yan had taught him. “Is everything alright Rey?” He asked the spotted hybrid, leaving the door for conversation open wide if his son wanted to talk.

YANHUA