The night after Wintermist had flown to Horsetail Falls was a night with an early curfew for the weanlings that had gone after her. Thunderblaze watched as Sunshadow’s breathing grew even, then closed he his eyes as well. He soon fell asleep and plunged into a dream.

A young Thunderblaze charged into the sky, chasing after his sire, Thunderfrost.

“Come on, son!” his sire trumpeted joyfully over his shoulder. Thunderblaze hurried to oblige him and quickly caught up with his sire, a magnificent bay with dark blue wings tipped in gray.

“We’re headed that way to drink,” Thunderfrost said, gesturing with his hoof to a river far below them on the right. The two of them flew toward the river. On the way, Thunderfrost shared some profound advice to his son. “Always remember, Thunderblaze, that the black foal has the capacity to be good, the same as any steed. The next black foal will be born in three years, and if you are friendly enough, you can get it, or any steed for that matter, to trust you.”

Thunderblaze awoke with a start. He didn’t like remembering his sire, it was too painful. Thunderfrost had been a loyal, trustworthy, and very kind pegasus. Unfortunately, he had been part of a failed raid to Jungle Herd. The one pegasus that had made it back from the raid had breathlessly told the onlookers that every other Sun Herd steed that had gone on the raid was dead, but Thunderblaze had refused to believe so. Now, with the dream, he was almost ready to face the inevitable when he heard a whinny from the trees behind him.

Thunderblaze turned suddenly, expecting to find Lakefrost, Sunshadow, or another pegasus returning from a bathroom run, but no. In between the trees, he saw a dark brown head of a pegasus marked by a wide blaze that he didn’t recognize at first, but then he caught a glimpse of midnight-blue feathers catching the moonlight. Thunderblaze’s growing expectation was confirmed when he could distinguish a black mane. “Father!” he whinnied.