Two small figures tumbled out laughing, eyes bright with relief, bodies rolling in the dirt as if the apocalypse were a playground.
Luna and Frost.
They came out with that reckless glee children got when they'd been confined too long, giggling breathlessly, hair full of static, cheeks flushed with the thrill of being somewhere they weren't supposed to be. They looked up and saw bodies and blood and weapons and, instead of fear, their eyes lit like it was a story they'd stepped into.
"DAD!" Victor choked, panic ripping through his control, the word falling out raw as he spun, wings flaring in wild desperation.
The horse brothers were there before he could even cross the distance, big hands scooping the two of them up with practised ease, hoisting them onto their backs like they were small knights being mounted for battle.
