The brothers of shadow and flame stalked the endless night in a synchrony none could match. With a keenness few others could boast of, they explored their home, as they had many times before, memorising the terrain, following the strange glowing sprites through the woods, breathing in the salty air. Their thoughts were with their friends, their family, those they had pledged to protect and defend against harm, to lay their lives on the line in the name of their cause. The brothers were fit, healthy, and experienced. It would take a great force to make them bend their knees to any whom they did not otherwise respect.

Protecting one's family was more than just being prepared to die for them, to fight off the evil that would infiltrate their borders. The brothers knew this - how many times had they and their sisters argued, both parties knowing that the arguing was the fuel of their passion, their only way of expressing one another when the pressure within grew too great? It was safer for them to vent at each other, to those who understood, then to those who did not know them well enough to accept the good and the bad hand in hand. They were what some would call a strange family in how they worked, and yet here they were, all of them leading, in their own way, this Qian their beloved sister had created. And so they had learned to open their hearts to those who called themselves Qian.

It was not always that simple. They did not know many of them as well as they knew their sisters, though they tried. Sage had become much like a sister, her sass and wit allowed her to blend in with them with smooth ease. Others seemed to fall under their protective shield in another way - a more paternal sort of way. Tandavi received their attentions whenever they could give it, in the eyes of the herd she was their niece, in their hearts she was their daughter, the result of a union between themselves and one whom they had called sister all their lives, who was now their lover. Kiara was one who had returned recently - and pregnant. They longed to hunt down the fiend who had dared harm their friend, but their duty was here, within the lands - and they could at least help her more while she was here. Help her to heal.

They came across the sleeping child and the young cub. Keeping their distance, they acknowledged the cub with a nod, running their eyes over the sleeping child who grew with each passing minute into the likeness of , they could only assume, the father. They could never understand the depths of grief and turmoil she would be going through, not truly, not the way a mother feels. With a glance to each other, Madyrn consented to stand by the colt and the kitten, while Maskan pushed on, following the trail of the young mare with the ease many years of practise lent him. Even in the moonlight, her outline was dark against the stretch of ocean behind her. Maskan called out with a deep rumble, friendly and warm despite the chill that this everlasting night cast over them all.

"Kiara," he spoke as his athletic form inserted itself between the mare's body and the sheer drop the edge of their home offered. "Why do you walk while your son sleeps?" He had his suspicions as to the reasons, but he needed to hear her say them, confirm them, in order to be able to help at all.

Even as he stood by her side, he saw the lingering gaze she gave to the edge of the cliff, the way her line of sight seemed to always be drawn to the ocean below, the drop, the jagged rocks that could mean nothing but death. Easily, he took yet another step forward, intentionally blocking everything that existed over the edge with his dark, fathomless hide. He heard the yowl in the woods beyond, and he gave it a flick of his ear. The brothers had known their sister's dragon, Akaith, for many years, they had an idea of the way the bond worked. Companions saw and felt everything their bonded did, and vice versa - with Madyrn standing guard by the cub and foal, no harm woul dbe coming to them there. Maskan considered Kiara with a heavy gaze, as she sought out his own eyes. He regarded her with a hard stare, one that revealed nothing of his own thoughts but merely provided a mirror for her to see her own reflection within. She spoke, and he simply seemed to accept the words with nothing more than a sigh that caused his eyelids to drift halfway down over his piercingly orange stare.

"Do not think to lie to me, Kiara." The voice that spoke the words seemed to be from another being, but it was Maskan's deep, smooth tones. As his eyes opened fully once more, he reached out a muzzle towards her. If Kiara had been one of his sisters, he would have bitten her, bullied her, picked a fight with her. As it was, he knew that was not the approach to take with this fragile soul. So he aimed to land the velvet contours of his maw against the curve of her nape, and breathe a deep, warm breath in, soaked richly in her scent, before exhaling it. It was an affectionate, supportive gesture as much as it was a gentle admonishment, a warning that should Kiara not tell the truth to him, he would only continue pressing until he got it out of her.

@[Kiara]

For a moment, he feared he had lost her. The little mare seemed to cower, to quaver, to dissolve before him, to crumple and fall down into a pile of broken memories, a shadow of a tortured soul. Had he pushed her too far? Was he too direct? Too harsh? No, for she recovered soon, she found the comfort he offered, the hand he had extended to her in help. Had he been a steed to express his emotions more freely upon his façade, he would have smiled a warm smile to her, but he remained passive, indifferent as ever. Only his eyes seemed to open up to her, to hold her gaze steady, to present her with a promise that he was here, to help her, if she would only accept it.

You know me too well, she spoke to his awaiting harks, and his stony gaze might have softened ever so slightly at them. He had acted on a hunch, an instinct, and once again he had been proven correct. Madyrn shuffled nearby the yowling cat, whickering his own low response to soothe the kitten, hoping the child did not wake to complicate matters. Maskan kept his focus trained upon the roan maiden before him, glad that she was able to trust them both. Yes, she was family, and she would grow to be a strong mare, once she was well enough to see past the hurt that had blinded her. He was not discounting the fact that she had been through a traumatic experience - he simply could never imagine what it could have been like for her. He remembered his mother telling him of a time when she was forced, a time before his own father had come along.

'I birthed a daughter before I birthed you,' she had said to he and his siblings, 'a daughter who I had no choice but to bear. She came into this world broken; a cripple. And yet, when she was struck dead, I wept for her passing. I hated the being who put her into me, he took from me the one thing every being takes for granted. He took my dignity, my control, my sense of self-worth. And in return, he gave me a life that could not live longer than her first breath. But I loved that life, even if I hated the monster that put her in me.'

He didn't know what that felt like.. to be stripped of everything, to be torn to pieces so that only a shell of your self worth existed. Malachi lived, however, where his dead sister had not. Was it that Kiara struggled with the love she naturally felt for the boy was conflicting with the hate, the shame, the guilt that plagued her from the actions of his monster of a father?

"I do not pretend to know what you are going through," he began slowly, deliberately. "The Qian welcomes Malachi into the folds of its family. He is not judged for the blood that makes him, but for the choices he makes." He paused, chewing over his words carefully. "Why do you think my sister chose to save you that day in the meadow? Or to welcome you home again, after you left us to find your mother?" He posed the question with another piercing stare, one that encouraged Kiara to delve deep, to search for the truth, to realise that even if she did not see it, there was a strength, a resolve, a hidden determination to survive, to live, to overcome all that would otherwise bring her down.

@[Kiara]

Though he guarded himself carefully, he felt a small sadness well up within him as he watched Kiara react to his words. The girl had no sense of self worth, no gauge of her own potential, no understanding that her very existence meant the world to those around her. She was an innocent, naive child, who had been thrust into a world of adult problems and troubles, whose innocence had been abused and taken from her, leaving behind crumbled ruins. He so wanted to help her see, to make her understand, but how could she? Once again, he only had a male's point of view - it was rather hard to be raped when you were the one on top.. It would never dawn on him to take a mare by force. The urges were strong, yes, but the there was always a sense of self within - unless one was a senseless monster, like that which terrorised Kiara's homeland.

"My sister sees the good in everyone. I don't know what it was she saw in you, Kiara, when she chose to use her influence over the world to welcome you into her protective folds." He offered the words with his usual dry tones, though after he spoke them he realised that they could be interpreted in a negative light. "What I mean to say is, I do not know if she saw the same qualities I see within you. Perhaps she saw something more." With a rare display of emotion, the stallion smiled a small, soft expression. Another smooth gesture later, and he was extending his maw out to the young girl again, in a paternal, or perhaps brotherly, display of affection. He could tell that the girl was depressed, that her mindset meant she was unable to see herself as anything but unworthy, and that ultimately, it would be up to her to pull herself out of this funk. "Tell me, what do you think makes my sister who she is?" He pressed another question upon the roan girl, hopefully before she would try to ask him what it was he saw in her.

@[Kiara]