The day is here.

The day he has been dreading; the day his sister is no longer his. Oh, the sweet irony of a dragon, the creature he admires above all others, being the subject of so much jealousy from the little warmonger! He loves his twin unconditionally, but today is the day she is pure no more, the day she loses that part of her heart that should have been forever Volterra's. He envies her, of course. Envies the bond she is about to gain, a bond with a creature he idolises - but, most of all, he envies the dragon, because it is about to meld its mind with the greatest woman ever to be born. He, on the other hand, will be left alone, to rue his hateful normality while she swans off into the sunset with her little firebringer.

It is the sound of an egg cracking that draws him, and he knows the taking of Nymeria is but moments away. Stone heart sinks, ears flop miserably to each side of his head as he approaches at a sorrowful meander, practically a funeral march. She will not be his for much longer. Oh, the young titan is such a selfish bastard - he craves a dragon above all else, needs it like the air he breathes, but he does not want his precious sister to have one for fear it will take her away from him. She is the light in his darkness, but soon she will want nothing to do with black brother when she has black dragon to occupy all her time. It is woefully, horribly unfair, and Volterra cannot disguise the hunger in his eyes as he watches the egg quake and crumble. He dares to imagine it is him that the creature is hatching for, he that is about to embark upon the greatest relationship known to horsekind. He dares to believe that one day, he will have something to fill the void his sister is about to leave. The hole in his heart, the gaping abyss in his life, the rotting scar where she used to be.

The black is beautiful. Newborn, untainted; sister is lucky indeed. He remembers the teachings about gender-colours, how the fact the beast is black means it is a he. As if it isn't bad enough she is about to abandon him, she is doing it for another boy! "He is beautiful," he says, the words tasting like ash and bitterness in his mouth. "You...you will still love me, even now you have him?" A rare vulnerability is evident in the colt now; bloody gaze wide open, dejected body language fighting to hold onto some shred of hope.