Through the dark he ran.

It was not a new sensation for the stallion. The dark had often comforted him in his youth and running was often a solution, although not in the most direct sense. The only time he had ever run away was following the physically damaging and emotionally wearing battle with Smoke. Otherwise Ricochet tended to run towards things, not from them.

Tonight he ran because his body demanded it.

Leaving Kimber nestled in the pocket of a tree and a grassy slope, he'd brushed her forehead with his whiskers and then slipped away from her side. What had started as a walk to clear his mind had shifted into a trot to burn the anxiety from his legs. That soon became a canter to waste the fire still roiling in his gut, the after effects of that meeting still tossing around inside of him. The canter had become a gallop in a matter of strides - if he ran fast enough maybe all of his thoughts, all of his worries, all of his faults would be left behind in the dust.
And then he could burn it.

He ran to, towards the dawn. The rise of the day would bring an inevitable shift and he sensed his call for a challenge would hold in the golden light. His body needed the chance to grow limber and for the muscles to bulk with the brief exertion. He was fit by all means, traveling had seen to that, though it had been some time since he truly fought. Concern on that regard did not consume him however, youthful arrogance saw to that.

Running hooves brought a sound like thunder over the plains as the dunskin streaked across the grass. He moved like liquid gold, his shadow sailing beside him. Far behind him now slept Kimber, Guns watchful at her side. Ahead of him, a red leaf danced on the wind. The same wind that knotted his mane and fanned out his tail. The same breeze that cut into his eyes and pinched at his face. Squinting, he only just barely made out the figure.

He slowed, tiredness already starting to set in as a line of sweat darkened his nape and his flanks. Wary to encounter anyone after that meeting, Ricochet was nonetheless curious. He did not know this herd and already many an ally, of sorts, had popped up. Where did this lone figure stand in that sense?

As he slowed his sight sharpened. In the poor light of the night however, he could not well make out the colt he'd never met. For a fleeting moment he even thought the figure Evangeline, the shape of the dragon above leading his mind to wander - surely she was not here in this herd with him. Nearly laughing at himself Ricochet trotted towards the stallion, his voice strong but friendly. "Hey ther-" Stopping short Ricochet gawked as he pulled alongside the other. Teal eyes widened with disbelief, nose flaring to gather as much scent as he could. The dragon! The pieces fell into place rapidly and in his excitement Ricochet surged forward to embrace the stallion in a hug of chests and necks, his throat whinnying out the name. "Jackal!"