"Ascendancy." The raspy, masculine pitch of his voice lacked its usually luster as the name poured like gravel from ragged lips. "I am a warrior of Aretha." Or "was" would be more accurate now, he supposed. He had fled in the face of terror, when throughout his entire life he had been taught to be steadfast and unwavering. He yearned to go back to his homeland, to his brothers, to his fellow warriors, but in his heart he knew he may never again be able to. He dreaded to know what they would have to say of his cowardice if he were ever to speak of his plight, and decided being assumed dead was far more appealing than any such fate.

Perhaps this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in his life.

His thoughts were disrupted by a sudden aching pain that deluged his mind followed swiftly by profound vertigo. For a moment his vision was blurred, obscured by a haze of blackness and then confusion. He recovered as far as his body would allow, and continued. The lyrics of the mare's voice were difficult to discern, but he eventually managed to do so, his reply coming delayed and with hesitation as so much plagued his thoughts it was hard to articulate the words. Still, he understood the importance; recognized the mare's intentions, and therefore complied. He considered his answer. What real family did he have?

His family was his fellow warriors. There was his mother and his father, of course; his blood brother, Adalricus, though they were hardly close. He had foals, somewhere, though many of them were unknown to him as pathetic it may sound. Thrystan. "I have a brother: Thrystan." It wasn't entirely honest. In a biological sense, he would be lying, but did that even matter now? In the sense of comradery, it was the indelible truth. Thrystan was his closest friend, and might as well have been his brother. He was closer to him than he ever was to Adalricus.

"Where am I?" He asked again, the urgency in his voice growing more intense. He wanted to know, even in this desperate hour. His movements were diffident, each stride occupied with a drastic limp. 'Where are we going?" The support of the two at his sides released an immense burden, but it still required quite a bit of energy just to speak in an intelligible manner. Had they not arrived when they did, he would likely be lying in the dirt, life slowly oozing from his hemorrhaging anatomy. He was aware of this fact, and although it was a mare, he undeniably owed her, both of them actually, whatever the debt may be. He would worry about it later, of course.