[open] you can't tell me nothing

[Kulin]

and when every time I set a course into the dark night
you would follow me silently with searchlights

Kulin has never been entirely alone before. He's always had his mother nearby, always within line of sight, even though the young colt's boldness often drove him to run farther and farther from her as the days and weeks wore on. Poor woman is a nervous wreck, most days -- a first time mother at the young age of five, still nearly a filly herself, and her first born is as brave as they come. 

Brave, and somewhat stupid for it. The golden-scaled boy doesn't have the wisdom needed to temper his courage.

Kulin bends down to sniff at a pile of something on the ground, front legs splaying out so he can reach it. It stinks, and he lifts his head and pooches out his upper lip. Gross. Blue eyes blink and he turns to look at his stomach -- it's growling, and he almost wishes his mom was here so he could eat. But, like he'd thought before, she eats this green stuff and Kulin feels like he should also eat it. 

He doesn't even get a mouthful of grass before that voice speaks up. Spooking, the golden boy's scaled head jerks upright, his sprig of a forelock standing up. He heard someone, but he doesn't see anyone. Kulin's heart pounds against his ribcage as his muscles tense up, ears twisting and nose sucking in air, looking for a scent. Does he have to run? 

"I-I ... I'm not alone!" he shouts defiantly. "And e-even if I was, so what? I'm brave and strong!"

KULIN

@[Leilan]