The brothers stood, their large forms shielded by the darkness that the outer rim of trees provided on this meadow this day. Their deadly, orange eyes watched, missing very little. What were they doing? They were warriors of the Foothills, charged with protecting the borders of a land they barely recognised. They were drawn away from the lands more often than not, travelling together, always together. They had heard news of their sister's predicament, but there was little they could do. They heard news of one of their leader's predicament, and awaited commands - commands that never seemed to come. Was the Foothills truly so dissident that they did not care one of their leaders had been stolen? By unicorns that they had fought against, no less.

Their minds reeled with the implications of their thoughts. They needed little words to establish that they were at the same level of thought. Being unbonded to any companions, they only saw the eclipse as a strange occurrence, and paid it little heed. The activities of dragons, equine, youth and sleeping beauties in the meadow before them therefore seemed very ordinary, nothing to concern their war-hardened hearts about.

That is, until one of their esteemed leaders entered the fray. Israfel seemed to be in the line of his swift travelling, and it took less than a moment for the brothers to react. The child of Smoke the Wild Rose would not come to harm, not on their watch. Like shadows dancing across the loam, their athletic builds moved with haste to intercept the path of the tyrant, deep, bellowing calls echoing from both their maws at the same time.

Madyrn aimed his bulk form to collide with the leader, braking his momentum by sitting back on his haunches and hoping his right shoulder would provide just enough force to disrupt the strike Archibald was making. They did not wish to impart harm upon their leader, for that would be seen as treason - they merely wished to protect the young, innocent foal who was the daughter of their close friend. Maskan meanwhile moved his bodice in the line of fire, so that if his brother's attempts at disturbing the path of Archibald's attack failed, his muscular mass would take the hit. He urgently tried to usher the filly out of the way too, and clung to delicate hopes that she might pull upon those vague, first-day memories of his face, and place her trust in the brothers.

"Leader!" Maskan cried, swivelling his head towards the black titanic steed. "She is but a foal, playing in the meadow! For what reason would you strike her down? The other sleeps, we have watched her barrel rise and fall for some time now." The brothers stood now, prepared to act in any way necessary to defend either of the young femme's. They had vaguely registered that Lace was present, and knew him from the birth of the very foal they stood in front of. Madyrn loosed a rough snort, ears swivelling as he struggled to keep his temper in check. They would uphold their honour, they would protect those who needed it - they would place themselves in the line of fire and hope to extinguish it before it was able to reach those undeserving of such a fate.

larfsalot.deviantart.com