[open] come on skinny love just last the year

[M + S + S + W]

They’ve felt the stares before (the piercing, ripping sensation of eyes turning upon their misshapen bodies) and they decide to stare right back. For years they have turned their eyes down, away from the open mouths and unabashed surprise, but with the awakening of Beqanna come the awakening of themselves. So they keep their heads upright (all of them except for the tired, cold filly in the midst of their warmth and protection) and their eyes snatch onto the ones who stare. They dare them to say something, to retort about their slow movement or their drool freezing on their lips or their lumped skin.

Today is no different. The mare and the stallion (the buckskin they hadn’t noticed before, but they notice now) watch their approach with wide eyes and they raise their chins a touch higher. It is true; they are in an unfortunate circumstance. The cold and Wound’s hemophilia (something they have all noticed, but not named) and her newness have all provided a potentially deadly concoction and the three brothers know it. They are ever protective of their little sister for it is their love that binds them and it is their love that brings them out of the shadows they used to call home.

The mare ducks closer to their baby sister (her nose pokes and prods and huffs) and each muscle in all four of the boys’ tightens. Smear’s ears pin and his face becomes hard. He moves his neck toward her face in a snaking motion, bent on placing a solid nip wherever he could land if she didn’t heed his warnings. He’d say more – he’d say much, much more – if it weren’t for his tongue too big and his vocal chords too broken.

Malfunction shifts to hopefully block her path, his expression hard. Skid allows slippery words for the first time around other horses, “Back off.” It’s short and to the point, but also sloppily said and drowning in the overwhelming amount of saliva secreting in his mouth. They are all exceptionally close and when someone gets too close to their tired, petite, cold, hungry, and bleeding little sister there can be serious consequences.

Malfunction notes her worry, however. He isn’t a child (none of the boys are children, but Smear is perhaps the most adolescent) and he knows when someone is touching out of concern and not ill intent. So he moves aside, allowing the mare a closer look. When she turns his question to the stallion, Malfunction’s eyes raise to meet the buckskin’s. The stallion’s explanation of his home sounds perfect for what their looking for – someplace where they are not required to do work, but they can still be safe without looking over their shoulders – but Skid and Smear keep their defensive, harsh expressions regardless.

“Would we have to pull our weight in this Tephra?” He knows for certain he could, but as for the other three… Skid’s hind legs refrain from long travels and proper fighting skills, Smear’s clubfoot refrains from proper balance and his lack of speech wouldn’t be suitable for diplomacy, and Wound is still too young to do much of anything but eat, sleep, and play. Malfunction keeps his face aware but not guarded, although the other two boys are quite the opposite and Wound merely looks as though she might fall over at any moment.

They need a saving grace, and it might have just arrived.

MALFUNCTION, SKID, SMEAR, & WOUND
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