The sound of Theo's laughter was much more enticing than talk of dead fathers they never knew. Though, Iskra was mindful of the fact it was supposed to be sad, and so he made to brush his spark-dusted wing just barely against Theo, a gentle reminder that it's alright. "We got our moms," he suggested both factually and kindly. "And each other," he affirmed with greater certainty, a broad and messy grin sealing it.

Then, with an ease afforded to them only in this rare pocket of time where youth nestled them from the hardest parts of the world, Iskra moved on from death as if it were as inconsequential as blinking. He couldn't grieve for someone he never knew, though he did lament the resounding effect it had on not just his mother, but now Theo too. Iskra did perceive that the colt didn't seem particularly crushed, but he also wanted to steer them back towards that warm happiness they'd just had.

"So how'daya do it?" Iskra asked suddenly, his gaze narrowing as he squinted at the golden glow that rippled off the cloudy coat. "Magic," he clarified, his stare lifting from the colt's hide to his vibrant gaze, its jade hue amplified by the otherwise earthy and monochrome color palette that Theo sported. "Do you say something?" he asked with a tilt of his head, tail wriggling anxiously behind his rump. If it was like language, that'd make sense why he hadn't really made any magic yet; words took time to learn and say, so he could settle with needing to learn his magic too (even though Theo already knew it bunches...). "Or is it a feeling," Iskra hesitated, his face scrunched up a bit as he clearly struggled to think of how to explain it. "Yannow, like in here," and Iskra's wings reached around to brush against his own chest, where he supposed his heart was, or his soul, or both, or something magical and powerful.

The fact he may just not even have magic didn't cross his mind. He knew so many that did it seemed normal, plus his mom did, and he kinda did already.

"Cuz I haven't been able to figure it out," he admitted, though was clearly ashamed as he couldn't bring himself to look at Theo after he said it, and his posture had tucked in on itself slightly, his feet pigeon toeing and his pride in his so cool wings a moment ago deflating under the truth of the matter. They did their own thing, but he wanted to do a thing too.

"I'm faster than anyone alive though," he reassured suddenly, peeking bashfully up at Theo as he openly boasted. "I beat my mom all the time, doya think that's my magic?" His voice rose a bit and wavered with the question, inflated with renewed hope.