Rainforest Cliffs
Something deep within Iskra urged him. See, magic doesn't really have a feeling, at least not something that's always there, taking up space like the bones you can push on under your skin or the lungs you watch move your sides. It's more like a sudden something, the way embarrassment can flush through you, or adrenaline roars through your veins and pricks behind your ears. So at first Iskra didn't know what the feeling was, or why it had come so suddenly upon him. Initially he glanced at Castiel, thinking the whale or their bond had something to do with it, "Is that you?". The Leviathan gave a questioning orange pulse through their connection though, drifting calmly beside him, and Iskra shook his head dismissively. "Well do you feel it?".
If Castiel did or didn't they weren't able to communicate it to one another, so Iskra was left with merely knowing he felt it, like a low vibration of need, and he was half guided, half followed, a set path through the south towards the beckoning call.When he arrived alongside so many others he was immediately suspicious, feathers fluffing up in posture as the colt's mouth filled with dread. He knew scenes like this, he knew what happened at them, and he knew who would be here.
Kaos
A low growl (pathetic given his age) kicked up in his chest as his eyes flicked over the hideous creature that dared to call himself a god. An overwhelming desire to rush up screaming with magic and weapons blazing brewed up inside Iskra. He was born of fire and lightning, and even if he'd had no reason to pick up a weapon before, he was finding one now in the horrors of Kaos. His teeth clenched, and his cheek twitched as he held onto the feeling though - the images of horses much stronger than him exploding into dust left a certain strain of caution in him too. Maybe he had those same roiling emotions as his bloodline, but he was not at the mercy of them (yet), and he rationalized himself into a steel calm for the time being.
An ear twitched at a familiar voice though, and at words that aligned with his own thoughts. Turning, Iskra was relieved to see Volterra, and he slipped up towards the familiar stallion. "Hello Sultan," he greeted kindly enough, but with a stiffness that he retained from Kaos' looming presence. Likely Volterra didn't recognize him, Iskra being just one of the hundreds of foals on the sand. That didn't matter though, because Iskra found familiarity and solidarity in him, and so he stood with a seriousness utterly unlike him in the face of this very real threat.
If Castiel did or didn't they weren't able to communicate it to one another, so Iskra was left with merely knowing he felt it, like a low vibration of need, and he was half guided, half followed, a set path through the south towards the beckoning call.When he arrived alongside so many others he was immediately suspicious, feathers fluffing up in posture as the colt's mouth filled with dread. He knew scenes like this, he knew what happened at them, and he knew who would be here.
Kaos
A low growl (pathetic given his age) kicked up in his chest as his eyes flicked over the hideous creature that dared to call himself a god. An overwhelming desire to rush up screaming with magic and weapons blazing brewed up inside Iskra. He was born of fire and lightning, and even if he'd had no reason to pick up a weapon before, he was finding one now in the horrors of Kaos. His teeth clenched, and his cheek twitched as he held onto the feeling though - the images of horses much stronger than him exploding into dust left a certain strain of caution in him too. Maybe he had those same roiling emotions as his bloodline, but he was not at the mercy of them (yet), and he rationalized himself into a steel calm for the time being.
An ear twitched at a familiar voice though, and at words that aligned with his own thoughts. Turning, Iskra was relieved to see Volterra, and he slipped up towards the familiar stallion. "Hello Sultan," he greeted kindly enough, but with a stiffness that he retained from Kaos' looming presence. Likely Volterra didn't recognize him, Iskra being just one of the hundreds of foals on the sand. That didn't matter though, because Iskra found familiarity and solidarity in him, and so he stood with a seriousness utterly unlike him in the face of this very real threat.
Victory is in my veins
I will not negotiate
I will not negotiate
Iskra
@Volterra
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
