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“What do you think you’re gonna get, old man?” 

“I’m half a season older than you, shut up with the old man crap.” Jerram, a handsome seal bay buck, snorted and tossed his mane, shoving a muscled shoulder into Halen to trip his gait. “Grandfather Tree is gonna make me an ascended right off the bat, just you watch.” 

Halen laughed. “With the puniest pair of wings Homewood’s ever seen, to match your-” 

“Halen!” His father’s voice whip cracked their conversation. 

Halen shut his mouth while Jerram laughed traitorously under his breath, hiding his sniggers by stuffing his face in Halen’s neck. 

Halen’s dad wasn’t here to watch them, he’d volunteered to follow behind the entire group of yearlings as they made their journey through the barrens. Still embarrassing as s**t, especially when the stag was riding their tails. 

Jerram nudged his shoulder again and nodded to the front of the procession. “I’ll race you there, huh?” 

“What, in this heat? You’ll pass out in five paces, old man.”

Jerram nipped at his shoulder with a snarl. Halen deked out of the way and swarmed around him, swinging his hips into Jerram’s side to bump him off kilter. Jerram shouted behind him. Halen took off before his friend righted himself to retaliate, galloping through the procession of year-mates. Jerram’s hoofbeats thundered an inch behind him, his throaty voice growling something Halen couldn’t make out. 

Probably “you damned cheater!” 

Halen laughed, warm sun on his back and agreeable company nipping at his heels. 

--- 

They reached Grandfather tree a shaking mess of sweat and dirt, lungs burning as they gasped for air in between bright bursts of laughter. Halen’s legs trembled, and he only made the last step up the plateau by leaning into Jerram. Jerram tore him a tirade of playful insults, but he was just as tired, just as shaky. 

But they were first. 

The plateau was empty of noulicorns, only the long shadow of Grandfather Tree darkening the dusty golden earth. 

“Damn,” Halen rasped, stepping back to drink in the full, towering might of the oak. 

“Damn is right.” 

They wobbled to the massive roots and collapsed in a heap, heads and hooves and manes tangled around each other. 

“What now?” Halen asked, too tired to even lift his head. 

“You watch while Grandfather Tree grows me a new set of wings, and then I’ll carry your a** back to Homewood when you get the big fat nothing you deserve.” 

Halen chuckled, but that stung his tired throat, so he dropped his head on Jerram’s flank and waited. 

“Oomph!” Halen’s head hit the pavement with a muffled thud. “Jerram, what the fu-” 

Jerram vanished. Halen shot to his feet, swinging his ears wildly. Everything disappeared, including the cheerful noise of other noulicorns headed to Grandfather Tree. Instead of a bleak outcrop overlooking the barren’s nothingness, Halen was crammed on all sides by thick, green trees. Soft moss smothered the ground and crawled up nearby trunks, birds swirled and chittered overhead, and the vykeli-forsaken heat dissipated with the wet coolness of Homewood. 

“Ancestors asses.” Halen whipped around in a frantic circle, searching the dewy foliage for familiarities. “Where the fu-” 

A pair of bright, black eyes stared at him from the bushes. 

“Uh… frig.” Frig wasn’t a curse, right? Probably not. His dad still might have given him a good headbutt over it, but his dad wasn’t here. He pushed down the thought no one lingered here and puffed his chest out with stinging bravado. He softened his voice and tread closer. “Hey, kid, you alright?” 

The foal brayed, a piercing fearful noise, and hunkered deep between the leaves. 

Ah, dang.  Halen hunkered to his knees and looked away. 

“Wanna know a secret?” He waited a pause, not expecting an answer. “I’m scared too. I know right? Big handsome buck like me?”

He tossed his mane, grinning. “I got stuck out here alone and I’m probably lost. Is that what happened to you?” 

The foal inched out of the bushes and nodded slowly. Damn, it wasn’t more than a couple days old. Wobbly limbed and skinny as a rail post. Coat all dull and dirty, covered in twigs. A foal like that wouldn’t last a night without their parents. What a bunch of bastards, living their kid out here all alone! 

“I’m Halen. You got a name?” 

The foal beeped and curled into Halen’s side, shivering. 

“Yeah, cool. That’s an excellent name.” Halen kept the sunshine in his voice while his heart sank like a dying bird. The foal was nothing but skin and dirt, not a lick of muscle. Kid probably had hours left to live if he didn’t get some food in him soon. Maybe something happened to his parents, or- 

The foal coughed. A hacking, wheezing noise that wracked his whole body. Halen smelled it on him, then. The sweet stink of sickness, sticky like honey poured all over the little figure. 

Ancestor’s asses, this little guy was sick. Sick with what? No one in Halen’s family healed, and the only experience he’d had with disease was when Jerram caught a cold and made it his life’s purpose to sneeze all over Halen at every opportunity. Halen, thank Grandfather Tree, had a superior immune system and didn’t get so much as a sniffle. 

Which meant he was probably fine with this foal, right? Definitely. 

“Hey, y’know what?” Halen dipped his head under the foal’s tiny body and pushed him over Halen’s back. “We’re gonna warm you up and get you something to eat, alright?” 

The foal honked agreement, legs akimbo over Halen’s withers. 

“Exactly, sunshine!” Halen glanced around the thicket, ears perked, trembling. Was that the sound of does in the distance? Had to be. This was Homewood, there were always noulicorns around. They’d know exactly what to do. Halen trotted off in that direction, gait smooth like cream to keep the foal balanced. “What’s your favorite thing to eat?” 

The foal gibbered nonsensically. 

“Mine too! Who’d’ve thought, huh?” 

The foal was gonna do just fine, Halen would make sure of it.