Such anger over the subject was surprising to the frail cherub, but he couldn't help but imagine himself and his loved ones being abandoned by Kri or Sumati. It made his chest ache, both with anger at this unnamed leader, and with compassion and worry for those who had been driven out. Had they been driven out? Suddenly feeling sick at the thought, Cera turned his emeralds over to the dark face of his father. Hardly registering the words that sadly graced his ears, the patched colt spoke slowly and tremulously through the sudden lump in his throat. "W-Where did all the herd members go?" Surely there were foals, families! Mothers, fathers, mates? The idea that someone could take over and eject all the loyal lovers of the land made him want to cry. Where would the newly outcasted souls go? The Wilds were no place for horses, for dark things lingered and the Gods could not offer much protection away from the land of their influence. In his mind Cera remembered the dark night he'd been bleating so pitifully for someone, anyone, to find him. He'd been blessed beneath the moon that night, and with one fateful meeting his life had been turned around in the most beautiful way when Midas had sheltered him and taken him in. Would other lost foals end up the same way? Wandering through darkness, crying out for someone they would never find? Mourning the loss of a home that was all they had ever known? Surely his thoughts were written in the plainest, most conspicuous language on his visage, but he was desperately hopeful that Midas had not fight alongside Ktulu and her sister, as he had told Cera, and let them suddenly orphan so many from their home. Part of him hoped that Midas had not, and if he had, Cera also prayed that he would lie. Spare him the images that he could not shake, of frail little ones and despairing families, of confusion and panic and bitterness.

Cera decided that if he ever aided an invasion, he would try his hardest to convince his superiors not to eject willing soldiers from a home their hearts had tied to. Swallowing this down like an anxiety pill, he allowed Ilaria back into the blockade he'd formed in his memories. Like a river running over the rough edge of a stubborn rock, she soothed him and warped him back to a shape he was happy with. Again the tension seeped away, burning the poison out of him with her undying love. Cera imagined the hateful, horrible emotions seeping out from every pore to stain the water instead of his soul. Grandfather Earth would not approve of such emotions, and Cera had decided he would walk a road of light and well-meaning, even if he had to be shown the brutality of war sometime in his life. Ilaria let him muse, but any time his thoughts dipped too dark for her she would huff and bite at his ear, only to fondly caress his head with clumsy paws. She nearly suffocated him with her love, and yet she kept him in line better than any mother, challenged him better than any sibling. Everything he could ever want, ever need, he could see within her loving liquid chocolate eyes.

When body shifted next to him, waves rippled gently outwards and alerted Cera to his father's finish in bathing. Smile rose to his face before he could even think of twitching the needed muscles, crown turning to face Midas in return. Laughing when Ilaria caught the translated image-version of the stallion's words and hissed in reply, cementing the statement. "No, she doesn't like big bodies of water. She's afraid she'll drop and drown, but she trusts me not to let her fall." At that, Ilaria seemed almost flattered and cooed lovingly at her bonded, stroking one tan cheek with her bushy tail. Cera giggled, regarding her adoringly. The trust between the two was surprisingly strong despite how recently they'd been bonded. Grandfather Earth had peered deep into his heart, and given Cera the only part that was missing. Ilaria had never been on his mind back then. A companion, yes, but of what breed he did not know. So imagine his surprise when her small form had flopped weakly to the sand at his hooves around a season ago, begging for nourishment. He'd never loved anyone as strongly as he loved her, except perhaps Midas and Hototo. Realizing he'd gotten caught up in her love once more, he had to yank himself back from the bubble they could easily get caught up in together. Midas' words were caught just in time, another giggle issuing from the youth's throat. Fina was perhaps his best friend, though he wasn't sure she felt the same, and knew she would never bathe if she could help it. Soft sound escaped his lips at the gentle touch to a place he could not reach himself, a muscle easily stretched and made sore through flight lessons. Cera smiled sweetly and turned to brush his own lips over Midas' left cheek, tugging gently upon his mane. "Of course not, dad! She can't fly if her wings are wet, just like us! And she's a fire bird, daddy," he chided, smiling and eyes glowing like small green embers. Teases flow easily from his lips, and yet he is sincere in his defense of Fina. Cera is nearly physically unable to lie or craft the notes of sarcasm in his words, and likely never will master such things. He is honest and open, and wants to stay that way. So when Midas asks of his day, he starts slowly moving pale hooves through the muck and out of the cooling water as night fell far too fast upon the desert, words already falling with total honesty from his throat. Ilaria grumbled and growled softly at the wetness that clung to his shoulders, but slid back down to her normal seat nonetheless. Always more active at night, her large eyes flickered from her bonded, to Midas, to Fina, and back. "Illy and I went down to the beach and took a nap, and then we went and found Onni! After that, Illy went hunting and I helped, and then we sketched some designs I was thinking about. After that I went swimming while she slept, and then we went flying!" Softly chirping as if he really was a bird, voice excited and bright with vigor and light that was finally, at long last, returning. No darkness, even the one d'Artagnan had pulled over him, could keep him down for very long.