Wolves that eddy out the corner of his eyes || Nashua

[Nashua]

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

He's right.

Wherewolf certainly hadn't asked Nashua to say anything at all. The striped pegasus just happened to have the pleasure of being near the same cliff that his half-brother had. The chestnut just happened to see the younger colt attempt to leap (and Nash had certainly hoped the boy would fly). And now, there was the matter of trying to get the sooty buckskin to stand.

It didn't have to be his responsibility.
He could leave the crumpled heap of dark feathers and golden dapples on the ground. Nashua could turn around and let the boy figure out how to find his hooves. He certainly wasn't a newborn foal needing help learning his legs. It didn't have to be his business at all. A gust of hot air and a flare of his wings and Nash could leave the colt right here. He could take to the sky and let the problem of the bristly-maned colt stay on the ground. Abruptly lifting his slender head up, there is a moment where Nashua does consider it.

And then he wonders what happens if he does leave.
Who comes for the boy?

His words - that teasing of his - works where his other attempt had failed. The boy twists and turns his body, trying to gain enough ground to stand. The icy slush - that same slick surface that keeps Nashua from moving on his toes too fast or angling too sharply away from the other pegasus - seems to prevent Wherewolf from doing so. If the youth hadn't been so intent on holding onto his shallow ire, the brothers might have used their time more productively and helped Wolf to stand. Instead, a green-blue eye fixes on Nash (with accusation?), and the gold-stripped stallion can feel his narrow slightly in response.

There is a whirl coming from his left but Nash doesn't have enough time to react. The whirl - the shape - is another version of @[Wherewolf] and there is a look of contempt for the copy. His dark ears snake into the flaxen on his cornsilk mane and his head turns sharply to the hastily-approaching shape. Nashua swings his haunch to the right as his hind legs move underneath him and his shoulders serve as a pivot to move away from the reckless Magic. Tightly drawing his wings up against him (the bones there are the most prone to breaking, he's learned), the chestnut pegasus tries to move away from the false Wherewolf.

The impact - when it does happen - might be more focused on the shoulder than the barrel of his side. Grunting when the duplicate colt makes contact with him, the older stallion feels his lips curl with the blow. The motion pushes Nashua more to the right and a throbbing ache starts to blossom near the point of his shoulder, beneath the massive wings that he had held so deliberately against his sides.

Trying to stay a step ahead of the young pegasus, Nashua takes another side-step to the right and tries to position himself in front of the duplicate. (He keeps a wary watch on the original, just in case his half-brother intends to fight his own battle.) "You got up," Nashua calls out, a half-jibe and somehow a whole truth.

Still watching the duplicate, Nashua moves his body so he remains head-on to the copy. He tries to prevent it from rushing him from the side again. Glancing to the now-standing Wherewolf, he asks: "Still feel like dying?"

NASHUA

html by castlegraphics; art by MirrorLands

let me know if i misread something or misinterpreted lol.