[private] could not hold me back

[Nashua]

She growls and the pegasus flickers back into her sight, coming to land across the leaf-littered ground from Mazikeen. He strides forward and his chestnut ears pin as the Alpha breathes a burst of flame towards a proud Seqouia. These trees are his heritage and as he tries not to take her assault personally - nearly constantly reminding himself that this was another fault of the Curse. This was what it did, Nashua cautioned himself.

Losing his temper with Mazikeen wouldn't bring Bolder back.
It wouldn't help find his missing brother nor find a way to deal with his accursed one.

Nashua is prepared for more fire; that he can handle. His Magic prickles against his copper skin, working tirelessly to heal the burns that the dragoness had caused. His coat - while coming together - lacks any real protection from further heat and his pink flesh puckers where Mazikeen's fire had blazed against him. One wing is still held defensively against his barrel, attempting to shield it from further damage. (At least, long enough until he adequately fly again.)

He watches as she shifts again, and as she begins to take a deeply familiar shape, Nashua can't hide the disgust from his gaze.

She becomes chestnut, instead of a pale winter white. Her onyx points blend into the rest of her coppery hue, and even the molten eyes of Mazikeen shift into something, emerging as the ancestral Legacy blue. A shade that he had always been envious of. Forgetting his injuries, Nashua flares his wings wide and trots forward. "Take it off," he snarls at her, and loses any sense of pleasantries. "I don't know who the hell you're looking for, but if it's a stolen child, there are only two horses I know that would commit that kind of crime."

The striped stallion continues rounding the near carbon-copy of Yanhua, with his coat draining to a near impossible shade of shadow.

"Was that Gale's idea? To take Bolder? Or was that yours?"

Glancing up at the shifter, taking in the horns and the blue eyes and the flaxen mane, his pale lips curl.

"Why stop at a foal?" He continues, falling into a thunderous rage that gleams threateningly from his dark green eyes as he draws nearer. Nashua recalls his earlier conversation with Reave and all his cryptic implications beneath the high temper they both shared. Had this been it?

"Why not take a Guardian?"

@Mazikeen