To tell the truth, it was almost a relief when the unicorn girl showed up, because it meant he could put off climbing the mountain for at least a little bit longer.

They boy spun on an iron heel, vibrant eyes wide as he searched for the source of creaking branches and breaking twigs- a girl, a unicorn with two long white horns, no older than he though marginally taller. Her question was certainly a curious one, one he had not been asked before (who, not what, being general fare), but Zèklè met it head-on with a ferocious grin. What was he? A pegasus, sure, but that was boring. A boy, he guessed, but also a warrior, and an awesomely awesome person, and an adventurer, and, and, and...

"I'm a badass!" the boy declared, flaring his one wing and nearly leaping in his excitement, his pride. The word was something he'd heard Ma and the warriors use, but never to describe a kid- and he wore it like an ovesized tie, a child trying to appear an adult. "What're you?"

Alas, the entire effect of his enthusiastic response was partially buried beneath a far more boring answer. Zèklè turned to the face the other unicorn (another unicorn! At least nobody with two wings who'd rub it in he face, he guessed), eyes narrowing slightly and heart beating fast. So many new friends, new faces, though this one was older, with a companion, and clearly unimpressed by the children who frolicked, foolish, at the base of the hill.

Maybe, the boy thought hopefully, it would be like having a cool older brother.

He doubted it, somehow.

Sunbeam eyes turned back to the filly, an uncertain smile still plastered on his face. They were comrades now, united against the threat of the older, boring boy; did she realize that as Zèklè did, or would he side with the spotted colt, treat Zèklè's infectious enthusiasm as ridiculously young? Caught between two unknowns the boy spun back to his left, peering unabashed at the other colt- until those strange, two-colored eyes lingered a little too long on the empty patch of his shoulder, and he suddenly felt ashamed.

Zèklè squirmed beneath the barbed wire boy's intent stare, shifting involuntarily to better hide his barren side. Usually he would respond to curiosity about his wing with laughter, even pride, because nobody else could say that their wing came in late- he was special, Ma had always said. But there was something about the boy's cold eyes, his bland voice, which made the child suddenly, painfully, vulnerably, insecure.

"No," he snapped, petulant anger creeping into his voice. "It's not d'stroyed, it's jus' late." Hind legs shifted, turning his body perpendicular to the pair, trying to hide the blemish of metal (metal! He didn't like to think about it; why did this stranger have to bring it up?) upon his side. Unbidden, tears sprung into his eyes- he wished he had never gone on this adventure. He wished Ma was there. He wished he was normal, and everyone wouldn't stare right when they saw him, and that he could fly and then show them all that he was just as good as any other pegasus, and maybe even better.

He sniffed, but his young face remained defiant, hard. Let 'em insult him! He was Zèklè the Brave, and one day his wing would grow, and he'd be better than all of them! He looked to the filly, to see if she would join in the mockery. He wished, again, that his Ma was there.

He forced himself not to cry.

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TAG;; @[Själ]