If Iskra had known of Arakh's thoughts, labeling him as a leader for whatever rag tag gang of foals he was always swept up in, he would have laughed. Iskra was just trying to get through life the only way he knew how, holding on tight to happiness, which was something best done when you shared it with others. The politics of it all, any of it, escaped him in the pursuit of this one single notion. If he thought about it really hard though, he was usually the one chasing after Matheo, the boy's constant light like a divine recognition and a beacon of invitation and hope.

Iskra didn't laugh though. Not just because he wasn't privy to Arakh's thoughts, but because regardless, in that moment something significant was settling into his consciousness. Something so strong and demanding of his attention in fact, that he didn't even preen at Arakh's easy submission to his speed, nor hasten to complete his stick-gathering challenge. Instead the twigs scattered hap-haphazardly around Iskra as he slowed until he wasn't moving at all. He stood stock still, body so rigid it seemed even his heart had stopped.

Theo's voice was in his head, but long before that his words were in his ears.
"Gaucho."
"The Wildfire."
That phrase tumbled endlessly inside of him, an echo which left scorch marks even as it chilled him with a shudder.

The teal of Iskra's gaze lifted up, catching the ocean of Theo's wondering stare. "S-same," Iskra breathed.
"Gaucho, the Wildfire, is my father too."

The admission came out quietly. This wasn't for any shame, or hesitation in the knowledge. It was because Iskra was so stunned, and he wasn't really sure why. He knew Gaucho had other kids that wasn't the direct family he knew of under Ampere. That seemed like something distant though, like something that would never touch him and so it hadn't mattered. To find however that Matheo was his brother, after all this time - it felt like he didn't know the boy at all.

His ears flicked at Saoirse's final words, having misplaced all the prior ones with this dawning understanding. His head tore away from Matty to offer the other colt a glance and a weak smile. "I don't think we would know," Iskra admitted. "Mine died before I met him."