For a few seconds, the colt wondered again. Would Adelric hasten to the act, tumble and roll, enjoy the efforts of ebullience? He seemed quiet, implacable, pensive and reflective, and while these certainly weren’t faults or flaws, the blue scion thought perhaps he’d offended the other child, and he was about to be refused. Perhaps he’d never anticipated or considered another’s frustration, vexation, at the art or act of amusement. Was Adelric too shy? Maybe he was made of diffidence and reservations, preferring the reticent shards of life, of shadows and streams? The lengthy pause gave him a slight respite, and he waited for disappointment to follow (but how lovely it would have been to pull some excitement, some danger, some energetic qualities from his newfound friend, to create and forge the connections of their meeting through innocent diversions and loud, raucous chuchling).

However, Erebos needn’t had worried. The challenge was accepted, and the juvenile’s core churned into a burning, frenetic energy of untamed spirit. He thought of nothing thereafter beyond the essence of trials, tests, and quests, of all the founding things empowering, emboldening the passionate, the determined. Was this a mighty odyssey, reaching towards the stars, the heavens, the heathenous bounties of their deliverance? Was this a snippet worth savoring, a true crusade of wonder, of might, of supremacy? However, he wasted no time in his pursuits – the child longed to call something his own, to catch and ignite powers beyond his imagination; to be one with the merciless crowd, to fold into the slate and veils of the shrouded shadows, but he’d need to grow, need to possess, need to hone the fine edges of a keen blade, of a swift stride, before the culmination, before the results of any of his desires. Naught remained, surfaced, in his cranium but the audacity of the moment, the purpose of his resolute, vivacious aspirations, and the pure delight sliding across his lips, the Cheshire grin inflated, elongated, into coiled, juvenile mettle. The idle stump upon Adelric’s brow swindled his right shoulder, a call to arms, a recognition of battle, a slide of confirmation and adherence to the triumphs and victories laden at their feet (and he pictured his father, the Reaper, mauling his enemies, draining their lives away, pretended to feel the curls of conquest thriving about his veins). Easily strung along in his exuberance, in his rebellious, unbridled enthusiasm, his limbs laced into minute pistons, driving valor, pluck, and predilection into the lanky columns, into the gangly pillars, hoping to achieve speed, quickness, rapid, prompt movements without prior results (how embarrassing it would be to fall once more upon one’s face, taste dirt in their mouth again, dishonored, foolish). Though they weren’t quick to respond to such calls, they embarked on their beckoned munitions, gallivanting towards the spotted colt, unaware of any foul play. Perhaps the other was merely a slower combatant – though his sire would refute that even those were not to be considered lightly, with more build, with more muscle, came more force, brawn, should a touch be laced upon one’s hide.

His calculations ceased there; too young to regard anything more than brief, impulsive ruminations, too excited to do more than process, then pummel, he reached toward the fellow colt, hoping to poise his velvety muzzle across the lad’s withers, just a graze, just a stroke of infidel bravado. The boldness, the assurance, the confidence, leaked out in few words, as loud and raucous as ever, childhood spirals of the daring, before their infantile steps led them to slaughter. “No, you!” He laughed, boyish and youthful, enjoyment plucking at the nefarious, devious little heart pulsing within his chest. Not a second later, he bounded across the hills, inviting chase, granting trails and tracking devices, forging through long blades of grass in peals of giggles and merriments. He twisted and turned along their ticklish endeavors, coming towards a lone tree in the midst, dancing and waltzing around it, purposefully slowing his stride, coaxing, drawing, the flames, the embers, the coals of further play.