When there's madness, when there's poison in your head
When the sadness leaves you broken in your bed

A single word slid past Iskra's ears, but it carried so much more significance than could ever be apparent just listening to it the once. First there was the history of that single, simple word. The moments built upon its usage, the friendship and the memories layered upon it. Then there was the presence that spoke it, something warm and welcome, someone meaningful to the ears listening. Lastly there was the way it was spoken (and the fact it was spoken at all). It tickled Iskra's ear as the breath that carried it blew across his feathers and his forelock, and the tone, so subtle and sneaky, that it surprised the boy to whom it was whispered.

Iskra's feathers partially lifted and his head turned instantly, a teal eye beholding the sunlit brother at his side. A giggle started to roar from his chest, but he sucked it back in and stifled it with a massive grin and a twinkle in his gaze. "There you are Matty!" he exhaled just as softly to his friend, honest relief in his features - the angelic colt was not one to miss out on eventful moments, and he was often first to arrive, so Iskra had started to worry.

At Matheo's congratulations Iskra wasn't sure how to respond. First of all, his mother's title and accomplishments (whatever they were) were not things he had participated in, or held any part of it, so it was awkward to be congratulated for them, for her. He supposed it was a momentous event and he ought to be proud of her, but he's still doubtful, so he says nothing. Thankfully Matheo goes on, labeling him as a prince. At this, Iskra's 'brows knit in confusion. "Am I?" he asks, as always looking to Matheo, who always seems to know everything, for confirmation. He doesn't really like the sound of it, it sounds like responsibilities and weird friendships, and he'd rather not. "So you were a prince then when your mom was!?" Iskra's 'brows lift with wonder, never having known all this time. Then, deftly, he decides the rules of prince-dom, "Then we're both princes," and he seals it with a reaffirming nod.

Near the end of this a strange fellow slithers in-between their talk. He has a funny way of speaking, and Iskra doesn't remember seeing the colt before, but he knows Matheo (everyone does, Iskra has begun to realize). Iskra is too stunned, staring at the strange boy, unable to speak before he slinks off again. He's short, like a colt, but he's still taller than them, and he doesn't have the half grown mane and tail, or the scrawny body like they do. Iskra's about to ask Matheo for clarification, but then his brother is inviting him on an adventure, and that's way more important.

"What is it!?" Iskra asks, intrigued, his body leaning closer, eyes widening with wonder. He shakes his head at the question, "I don't think so, it'd be boring anyway. You know how these go..." His teal gaze darts around and spots an escape route. "C'mon, let's go!" Surely they'd be yelled at if they are noticed departing, so they do need some stealth, which is why Iskra's kept his voice down (best he can) this whole time.

Iskra

I will hold you in the depths of your despair
And it's all in the name of love