They reach the trees, and Arakh blows heavily as he tries to regain his breath whilst collecting the sticks and twigs to clear the way for whatever Kisamoa has planned. When he's flying, he can keep it up for hours, but running is far harder. Save for the sweat beading his flanks, though, there's little outward sign of the colt's tiredness, and his ears are rammed firmly forwards to absorb Theo's words.

Gaucho. The Wildfire. The calf's heart hammers, his wings ruffling against his sides as he looks agape at the pale boy. They are brothers. "Gaezo," he murmurs. Brother. He has always wanted a brother. Mother tells him that he has an older one, Libertad, but he is never around. His paternal ones he'd never met, until now. The colt loves his sister dearly, but he craves a male friend who he can wrestle and play rough with, who he doesn't have to worry about hurting. A brother, sworn to him through blood and steel. Far from being jealous as he had been when he realised about the other boy's similar magic, Arakh is overjoyed at this revelation, and a smile spreads slowly across his mouth.

There's a voice in his head then and he startles, surprised; before he can respond to it, Iskra does. Gaucho the Wildfire is my father too. Arakh's eyes grow wide and he looks between the other boys, his heart thudding so hard he marvels at the fact they cannot hear it. From no brothers he now has two! Now he's looking for it, he can see some similarities - they're all robust, well-built young boys, sturdy and clearly well-bred, and they all hold Gaucho's primitive barring. Arakh is probably the dullest and least flashy of the trio with his plain grullo fur and no markings, but he blames his boring grey mother for that.

Part of him feels bad for ignoring Saoirse, who seems perfectly nice enough, but he can't bring himself to notice the other colt when he is surrounded by brothers. "Gaucho is Arakh's Ave too, he rumbles, looking between the two with barely-contained awe in his eyes and voice. His muscles are thrumming with excitement, the air sizzling with the calf's sheer delight at this new revelation, this new discovery to enhance his life. "Theo, Iskra and Arakh brothers." He has to toy with the word on his tongue to make sure he understands it properly, to digest it and file it away with the nub of happiness that blossoms warmly in his chest.

This fire dies slightly as Iskra speaks, informing Saoirse that he never met his father before his death. This reminds the grullo of his sire's corpse, and he can't suppress a sad shudder. Sadder still that Iskra never even got to meet his esteemed father, and Arakh realises how lucky he is to at least have met the great man. "Iskra never met Ave?" The thought is so horrifying, so terrible. Their time together had been fleeting but the calf had cherished every moment of it, and he would nurture those memories until he himself found death awaiting him. He glances across to Theo. "Did Theo?"