[private] it was not your fault but mine

[Nashua]

stars when you shine, you know how i feel
oh freedom is mine

Nashua's upbringing isn't something that he likes to reflect on often. The first year of his life had been traditional. Nash had been raised alongside his twin brother, Yanhua, by their mother Lilliana. It had been Nash after that trip to Ischia, after they had met glowing Velkan, that had asked and asked after their sire. It had been him who had asked why he had wings and about the sprouting horns on Yan's head. It had been who had asked why he had stripes and Yanhua, like their mother, had a shining golden marking.

And then like a wish (ill omen), Wolfbane emerged from the mists. Wolfbane with his lovely, white wings and shining blue stripes. As a young colt, Nashua had thought here was the answer to all the questions he had. The palomino had even promised to teach him how to fly, had acted like he planned on staying long enough to teach his chestnut son how to fly. (Those lessons had come from an older sister and then more lessons came from a red-feathered brother.)

He tries not to think about it often.
(And the one time he had broached the topic to Lilliana, she had only shaken her head. The Commandant? he asked when he had been old enough to understand the rumors and his mother had returned from Pangea.)

The young stallion doesn't have to think about it now. His present company finally smiles at him and there is a thrill inside Nash that he has never felt before. It feels like that first shining moment when he first spied Tephra, that first proud moment when he had finally spread his wings and learned to really soar. Noel is an adventure to Nash and the grin that he throws her way is beaming; "Ha!" He nearly barks the laugh and then smiles wildly again. (Something in him is pleased that she was born in Nerine. Perhaps there is a touch of Northern pride in Nashua, after all.)

Noel dashes off the edge, spreads those magnificent wings wide and wild. To Nashua, it looks as if she is daring the sky. (How could it not catch her?) The striped pegasus is quick to follow, a trot step and then he dashes off the edge of the cliff like he has never been afraid of the edge of the world (he hasn't). He unfurls his large wings and they catch the sea breeze that races upward from the craggy shore below.

Shifting his weight back, Nashua waits. If @[Noel] looks back, she might see the young stallion observing her, watching to see what she does with leaping from great heights.

NASHUA

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