R I C O C H E T - - raise your GUN and it's over

[I thought maybe when we're also getting ready to finish this, smoke could walk in? Up to you!]

The voice of Evangeline remained in the sunken ears of the stallion as he ran. Rage burned a cold fire in his teal eyes, while grief pounded holes in his heart as he let the mare go with every stride.

Dead.

She might as well be. As if finding her with child at side wasn't hard enough to swallow, it bore a horn. As though returning home hadn't been hard enough for him, she casually mentions the disaster and destruction that befell in his absence. Ricochet might as well have been standing in the practice yard for warriors, letting each take a well aimed kick at his side after what he went through talking with her. Such treachery wouldn't be forgiven - though she was equine, she was skilled enough at wounding deeply.

Lithe body of black and white breezing beside the ruined horse whined in sympathy and concern. Guns did not fully understand what had transpired, but he felt the shift in his friend. Where the stallion had once been lost and cautious to come back, he now drove forward with an insatiable need to return. There was certainly nothing left for him here. There probably was nothing left in Isilme either, but he'd rather wander the dead lands of his birth right than this foreign field of weak, cowardly fugitives.

R I C O C H E T - - raise your GUN and it's over

A name shrieks through the clearing like a kick swinging around into the back of his head. Ricochet swerves suddenly to the right, joints locking as he bounces abruptly to a standstill, head swinging around to glance behind him all in the same movement. He'd half expected it would be Evangeline running after him, tears staining her face while her heat leapt wildly in his absence... perhaps she was not as dead to him as he thought.

He pushed her image away with an aggressive shake of his head, teal eyes jumping up to see who it was that yanked him back when he was so close to breaking free. There, clattering around behind him, was his sister. His sweet, darling, younger sister.

Emotions competed within Ricochet. Anger flaring when it was already fed at seeing the spawn of that mare that ruined him not even a few seasons back, and joy, sorrow and softness at seeing the spawn of his dead father. He could never hate her for her mother, she was too different, too much like Gunslinger to be blinded by the womb that burst her forth. Guns whined beside him, tail wagging in low excitement, unsure what this meeting would bring to the tense stallion. Ricochet wasn't sure either, but he had time to spare for her. What a relief to know she lives still.

I know the face of my father

"Kimber," he spoke at last when she came closer, a touch of a smile breaking his hard features and melting away the cold rage that roiled in the corners of his eyes. "What are you doing out here little warrior?" he murmured gently to her, nose extending to caress her's in warmth breath. It had been so long since last he'd seen her, still then hugging her mother's side. She was young still, but Ricochet was no higher when his training started. All the same, he couldn't help but see her as the little filly, something to be protected and guarded.

Instinctively he glanced around for smoke, muscles bunching in preparation of dealing with the sharp-tongued mare.

R I C O C H E T - - raise your GUN and it's over

[lmao she's super cute]

Her exhales were hot and quick with her excitement. How could he help but soften in her presence, so innocent and naive, so unprepared for the hard life that was due to meet her sooner rather than later. He had been like that once - he yearned for such a time now, ached for it with every sensation in his body.

How he wished to weep, but he could do nothing but smile with her here.

Gun's hunched for a moment as the girl abruptly turned her attention to him, her mind firing like a machine gun as it skipped from one subject to another. All to soon however the dog relaxed, finding friend in her face rather than foe. Excited barks responded and eager tongue to wet her velvet nose. Plumed tail wagged heartily, joy flooding the young dog that had felt too much fear, anxiety and trepidation these past seasons. Ricochet felt for the collie.

Naturally, the moment of bliss could not be eternal. All too quickly the girl settled and her tone shifted. Gone was the happiness and the joy. Now was the hurt, the loss, the confusion. Where have you been all this time? Evangeline had asked, or rather accused, the same thing. I was trying not to die he wanted to scream at them.

A gentle sigh wavered from his scarred, burnt muzzle. He spared a glance down at Guns and the dog returned the brief meeting of their eyes. They both knew it was best not to relive that past experience, but everyone seemed to demand he bring it up.

"I had to leave to fight," he murmured, providing her nothing but the truth, if perhaps a skewed one. He had been fighting himself back then, fighting Guns and the world and dreams. Light and shadow had been the same, color and gray all similar as he wandered down an empty pathway that twisted and turned with every step. He'd been beaten into the ground and fell even further, spinning into a ring of fire.

Where had he been? You don't want to know.

He hesitated now, wondering if he should tell her he had to leave again. It would be better to let he know than lead her to believe he had just arrived and not was just departing. How he wished not to see the broken look on her features, he'd much rather lie and see the happy glow settle there. And then what, sneak away when she wasn't looking and let her splinter behind his back? Even he was not so cold.

"I am glad to see you are safe though, my Kimber. Please, keep that way, for me."

R I C O C H E T - - raise your GUN and it's over

[OMG I did not see you had replied x.x; so sorry]

Her touch ignited within him a love and kindness he'd thought long absent. It ached, to have something so unfamiliar coursing through his body. For a moment he stood stiff and uncertain, nearly threatening to tumble over himself to escape such a burning touch. He remained still however, eventually melting into her weight and leaning down his muzzle to embrace her from above. As she began to speak, her words buzzing against his skin like electric kisses, he closed his eyes.

And sighed with relief.

She would be safe. Smoke would see to that. Maybe he would too, eventually...

The peaceful moment could not last long. Naturally not when he was involved. It was only ever chaos and movement with him, never serenity or standing still. His ears ticked back, seemingly trying to escape the onrush of words that Kimber spoke, words he knew would unsettle what balance he'd briefly found.

Eyes fired open in surprise. His body shuddered and it seemed to resonate against his tongue for when he spoke it was with a stammer. "She what?!" he asked, incredulous, but still Kimber spoke. "He what!?" Ricochet demanded again, hoarse this time and almost reeling. Aerwen had a son? He could not believe it, but he trusted Kimber, and yet... on top of it a son with a dragon already! Ricochet was a mixture of pride and disgust. The very word of that foul animal sent his face curling in agony. He could never bond to one now he realized with a deep sadness. It had always been a dream, a symbol of strength. And now?

He glanced down at Guns, the pup laying beside Kimber, tongue lolling in the heat.
Ricochet couldn't help but smile. He didn't need a damn dragon anyway...

He could tell Kimber felt a similar way and he hugged his chin into her side harder. "You will always find what you need when the time is right. Dragon or otherwise, my Kimber," he whispered kindly to her. There was more yet to be shared however, and so Kimber continued with a patience that surprised him. Gone was her enthusiasm now, replaced by something quieter and much, much older. He supposed foals of Isilme didn't stay young very long.

"Missing?" he could only find the voice of a whisper. Teal eyes shimmered with the reflection of a cold fear that gripped him from within. The whites slowly began to form around the color, madness pulsing with each beat of his heart. Not Aerwen, surely, she was always so talented and mighty! Did she fall as easily as that damn Gunslinger to the shadows of the past? Damn this family for being so strong yet so weak!"

He had to find her. He had to try. He was going back anyway he at least needed to see her bones if nothing more. Resisting the urge to sob like a child he settled for growling low in his throat. Gently, but surely, he stepped away from Kimber. Gone was his inner glow of kindness and warmth, or the chilly dread consuming him. Now stood an impassioned, furiously burning Ricochet. His eyes blazed as they glanced down to Kimber. He would not be swayed now, not even by her small, innocent face.

Is she really innocent anymore?

"I must go." He spoke low, as though murmuring a secret. "Kimber I must go back to Isilme. I need to see for myself. I need to find Aerwen, one way or another." He mumbled the last bit, breath shuddering with contained emotions. He could not break before this child who needed someone strong. She needed someone far stronger than he though he feared.

"Be good, Kimber." He reached down to nuzzle her forehead, lips playing at the small forelock bundled between her ears. He smiled into her hide, breathing her in one last time. Would he see her again? He hoped so.

Guns was already on his paws, seeming to sense the shift within Ricochet and the travel that change would entail.