It was not fair, he decided, as he hurried along in the wake of the pale mare. Were moms always this commanding? First she dragged him this way, through dense woodlands and over difficult sandy beaches where vast, terrifying waves thundered in against the shoreline. Left him, too, without explanations or reassurances to do whatever she wished. Then, just as he had started to enjoy himself in the surge - playing with blue crabs and lavender kelp while darting in and out of the swell as it lapped at his feet - she dragged him off again, back the way they had come. Not once did she pause to ask his opinion on the matter, not for an instance did she consider the fact that he might not want to run around at her heels.
He'd much rather stay with his dad. Or his twin. Actually, Van would really prefer to just stretch out somewhere and sleep. His body was aching, and it would only get worse the further the more he exerted himself. Telling Erthë would not help much; the mare only frowned at him when he complained, her eyes cold and distant and the words she offered as unhelpful as her attempts to keep him and Alvah dry at night.
When they stopped, relief flashed through the bright amethyst eyes. His legs were not strong, his body not durable or fit; the little chest heaved and the heart raced visibly beneath frail ribs. Pattering in pace with the falling rain.
It took him a moment to realize that they were no longer alone. Though his mother tried to keep him back behind vast ivory wings, Van ignored the warning and ducked in beneath the bright sparks that fell from the wingtips, curiously studying the filly up ahead.
"Oh" he heard Erthë say, her stance relaxing noticeably beside him - though the glare she passed down on him was terse enough to make him flinch. Boy, would he be in trouble when they got home. "I am sorry, Otem... this place makes me nervous, and I forget my manners. I am Erthë, and this is my son..."
"Van" he chimed in, to his mothers obvious chagrin.
Finding it pointless to worry about scoldings when he was already in trouble, the stocky colt pushed himself out from under the cold wing and tripped confidently towards the large girl, his expression brazen as he looked her up and down. That she was older than him was obvious, but it was hard to say who of the two mares were younger. His mum was shorter, did that mean anything?
"Do you live here?" he asked.
Van flinched again at the tone of his mother's voice. It was hard and sharp but frayed at the edges, and when it made Otem cry the colt looked at her with a world of accusations in his eyes. What did she say all that for? It wasn't their fault that they were homeless, right? At least he didn't think so. But now that the concept had been brought up, and he saw the heart-wrenching sight of the crying filly he felt his own lips begin to tremble.
Why though? He felt no pain (not beyond the usual ache) and he felt no real sympathy for either of the mares. Perhaps it was just the fact that it had been a long day already, and he was tired and sore and his mum had nipped him and maybe crying was the appropriate thing to do.
But though tears actually began to pool in his brilliant eyes, they quickly vanished when the pale mare walked up to Otem instead of him, eyes soft and her wonderful ice cold wings rising to embrace the filly. Jealousy thundered through his entire being, for her comforting hum was much sweeter than he'd ever heard before, and her eyes looked almost soft.
It was a bit too much to swallow. He was crying too, wasn't he? So why was he not wrapped in the cold comfort of her wings? He was her son, her oldest son even. It was so unfair!
Glowering a bit at the tall yearling, as if daring her to try and steal his mum away with any more bawling, Van puffed out his chest and pretended that it didn't bother him to be left out like this.
"Where is your own mum and dad?" he asked her, the voice carrying the same velvety whisper as before... though there was nothing he could do about the sulky undertone it carried.