DEAD I AM THE DOG, HOUND OF HELL YOU CRY
DEVIL ON YOUR BACK, I CAN NEVER DIE

Exhaustion, agony, misery. These are his three friends. There are the three things that define him, that embody him, that weaken him. He has never felt so powerless, nor so confused and - as much as he tries to hide it behind gritted-teeth bravado - so hurt. There's a whole new part of him now that feels exposed, raw and gaping against the cool autumn air; he laments his own lax tongue, his stupid, stupid words. You....know? Of course she knew. He's never said it and now he probably never will but it's obvious, it's implicit, it's tacit.

And yet....it meant nothing to her. He means nothing to her. If he had, then she wouldn't have needed that other mare there to hold her back and stop her attacking him again.

He has put her actions down to grief, has assumed that she functions like he does - channeling less-desired emotions into ones that can be controlled and wielded like a sword, such as anger. She lost her - their - child, so it is little wonder that she was destroyed by sorrow. He thinks he understands why she chose him to take her feelings out on, because he put the child into her womb and he, from what he can glean from the fragmented pieces of information he's put together, offended her by creating other children too. Therefore, he thinks he knows why she attacked him, but it is beyond him why she didn't stop. Even Volterra, with his rage and his unbridled wrath, thinks that he wouldn't have taken it so far had roles been reversed. Once the initial burst of temper fled him and he realised who it was he was attacking, he would have stayed his blade.

Isopia hadn't. She'd shown no sign of stopping, even as he stood naked in front of her - his ribs shattered, his dragons broken, his mind empty. She would have carried on. And that is a betrayal that even the leviathan's twisted logic cannot rationalise.

But Volterra does not comprehend quite how deeply Isopia's hatred towards him runs - he does not understand how much meeting his other offspring has affected her. He does not understand how finding out about Aithniel is the straw that broke the camel's back, because he'd been in too much pain to make sense of her final words during her attack. He only understands that her fury had been relentless, and that if it hadn't been for Vadir stealing the show with her fiery vengeance, and the calm benevolence of the mystery mare who had dissuaded the Mountain from attacking again, Volterra's wounds could have been far worse.

He hasn't been able to leave the Fields since the fight. His ribs don't allow him to move far without exploding into ravishing blades of agony, so he's forced to stay here until they get a little less painful. The beast lives off the plentiful grasses and water here, but he cannot enjoy them; this place is forever tainted. Here he was born, and here he bedded Isopia, but those two pleasant memories have been twisted and burnt by this most recent event. The Heavenly Fields are cursed to him now, its beauty burnt to embers. He roams as far as he can each day, trying to fight against the pain in his ribs, refusing to succumb to the excruciating torture that the Mountain's earth has subjected him to. He has defeated each and every other injury he's ever received, moving even when his bruised muscles and torn flesh tell him not to, but this is different. He cannot outrun broken bones, so is instead stuck in a haze of frustration at his own weakness.

Vadir is confined to his back, as her own shattered ribs prevent her moving at all. She relies on Vérzés to hunt for her, which the red does with admirable gusto. But in the wake of their argument, she refuses to speak to Volterra at all. She has narrowed their bond down to the tiniest of threads, and does not allow him any access to her mind - she is furious at him, and sits in stony silence on his back without so much as acknowledging his existence. The stallion does not need his mind-partner to be so damn stubborn now of all times, but he refuses to apologise when he thinks he's in the right. They are at an impasse, neither willing to make the first move to fix their torn bond.

The sun collapses on the distant horizon, bathing the Fields in a resplendent red glow. Each line on Volterra's powerful body is illuminated in crimson, and Vadir's scales glow like gemstones in the dying light. Then it is gone; darkness engulfs the world as clouds cover the moon, and the behemoth is left to muse on his suffering with his face tilted sadly towards the heavens.

DEAD I AM THE ONE, EXTERMINATING SON
SLIPPING THROUGH THE TREES, STRANGLING THE BREEZE