It was boring, dark and damp in his fathers cave. Full of strange colours and plants that he did not know, only that he mustn't touch them lest he wanted to die. At that warning, Sacre had shuddered and remained as far away from them as possible, both intrigued and fearful. His young mind could not yet comprehend the reasons as to why his father would want to keep such things so close by. Wasn't he worried about killing himself? The thought had deeply troubled Sacre, so he left the dark hole and began to wonder around the herd land. Maybe he'd find Roux and silently he wondered what his twin would be up to. He couldn't be that far after all, he was almost certain mother wouldn't want them straying too far anyway. The colt wondered if we would encounter any others of the herd, the prospect both excited him and scared him. What kind of horses lived here? Did they all live in caves with strange plants like his father did?

The more he thought about the prospect of meeting another the more he leant towards the excitement. The curiosity of boyhood was too hard to deny and Sacre couldn't help his need to know everything and everyone. He was full of questions, whys, whats and hows. Full of wonder and intrigue. What was the rest of Helovia like? Could he go visit all the places there were and meet even more new horses. Was it really so bad that some had wings and some had nothing? Sacre didn't think it would be such a bad thing to be able to fly, however the life of an equine sounded quite boring to his baby mind. He wouldn't ever want to lose the tiny red tinted horn that grew from his head. One day, it would grow as large as his fathers and Sacre simply couldn't wait until that happened.

Eventually, the young colt found himself staring back at his own reflection in the never freezing lake. Pulling faces at himself then laughing in his boyish tones before taking a long drink and looking out towards the rest of the land. Jet black mane standing up on end with his tail was short and stumpy. Only a few red hairs could be seen around his flank, eyes and ear with his baby fur still covering the rest. Sacre often wondered why that was and tried rubbing the places to see if it would reveal more red hairs. Yet, to his chagrin, none appeared and he once again he would find himself disappointed.

Snorting, he set of at a wild canter and dived into the areas where snow lay in the shadows of the mountain. Squealing when it sprayed up him, cold and wet. His young mind so easily occupied by the smallest of things. The sun had already set and the only thing that lit up his way was the silver glow of the moons light.