Early evening settled over a grassy plateau near a forest ridge, the sky streaked with pink and gold as the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the swaying wildflowers. Hoofprints crisscrossed the earth, fresh and deep, marking the trails of wild horses that roamed the open stretch. Nakula and Sahadeva, now three, darted across the grass, their small tunics flapping around their knees as they chased two skittish colts, their laughter ringing out like bells in the still air. Their fair curls bounced, catching the light, and their tiny feet kicked up clumps of dirt as they ran, their voices bright and eager.
Kunti stood on the ridge above, her crimson sari billowing in the breeze, its patched edges fluttering as she held a coiled rope in her hands. Her dark hair whipped around her face, and she watched the twins with a smile tugging at her lips, her eyes soft but sharp. Yudhishthira sat beside her, his tunic dusty as he tied knots in a length of vine, his small fingers precise and steady, his hum low and thoughtful. Bhima hauled a clay pot of water from the stream below, his broad shoulders straining as he trudged up the slope, his boots thudding against the earth, his grunts loud in the quiet. Arjuna perched on a boulder, his bow slung across his back, aiming at drifting clouds with an imaginary arrow, his sharp eyes narrowed as he tracked their shapes, his voice muttering under his breath.
Nakula slowed near one colt, a sleek brown creature with a twitching tail, and he held out a carrot he'd plucked from their stash, his voice soft and coaxing. "Come here, little one. Easy now. Just a step—see? I've got something good." He crouched low, his small hand steady as he stretched the carrot forward, his smile warm and gentle.
The colt snorted, its ears flicking, but it paused, its hooves shifting as it eyed him, and Nakula stayed still, his voice dropping lower. "That's it. Nice and slow. You're a good one, aren't you?"
Sahadeva approached the other colt, a gray one with a wild mane, and he tilted his head, his sharp eyes reading its skittish steps as it pawed the ground. His voice came out calm and quiet, a steady murmur as he edged closer. "He's scared, Nakula. Step slow, like this. See how he moves? Wait for him." He took a careful step, his small frame poised, his hands empty but open, his gaze locked on the colt's twitching ears.
Kunti leaned forward, the rope slipping slightly in her grip as she watched, her voice awed and warm. "Look at them, Yudhishthira. Grace and mind together—right there in those two. I've never seen anything like it."
Yudhishthira glanced up from his knots, his dark eyes following the twins, and he nodded, his voice steady and thoughtful. "They've got something special, Mother. Nakula's soft way, Sahadeva's sharp eye. Father'd say it's a gift—something from the gods."
Bhima dropped the pot with a thud, water sloshing over the rim as he wiped sweat from his brow, his voice gruff and loud. "Gift? I'd wrestle 'em down! No carrots, no talking—just grab 'em and done!" He flexed his arms, grinning wide as he punched the air, his dark curls bouncing.
Arjuna lowered his imaginary bow, hopping off the boulder as he laughed, his voice sharp and teasing. "You'd scare them off, Bhima! They'd run faster than you could blink. I'd shoot 'em—right in the leg, nice and quick!"
Kunti shook her head, her smile widening as she stepped down the ridge, her sari trailing behind her, her voice firm but fond. "No wrestling, Bhima. No shooting, Arjuna. Look at them—Nakula and Sahadeva don't need strength or arrows. They've got their own way, and it's working."
Nakula's colt nickered, its nose brushing the carrot as it took a tentative step, and he giggled, his voice bright and soft. "See? He likes me! Come on, little one—just a bit closer." He edged the carrot forward, his gentle touch coaxing the colt until its muzzle nudged his hand, nibbling the treat with a soft crunch.
Sahadeva's colt snorted, rearing slightly, but he stood still, his voice calm and steady as he murmured again. "Easy now. You're all right. I'm not moving—see? Come when you're ready." He waited, his sharp eyes tracking every twitch, and the colt settled, its hooves stilling as it lowered its head, stepping closer to sniff his outstretched hand.
Kunti's breath caught, her hands tightening on the rope as she moved beside Yudhishthira, her voice low and full of wonder. "They're taming them. Right in front of us—wild horses, and they're not even afraid. Ashvins' blood, that's what it is."
Yudhishthira tied a final knot, setting the vine aside as he stood, his voice quiet but sure. "Ashvins, yes. Grace in Nakula, intellect in Sahadeva. They're young, but it's there—clear as day. They'll do big things, Mother."
Bhima lumbered closer, squinting at the colts as he scratched his head, his voice gruff but curious. "Big things? They're just playing with horses! I could lift 'em—carry 'em back myself!" He laughed, a big, booming sound that rolled across the plateau, his hands flexing as if ready to grab.
Arjuna ran to the edge of the ridge, his bow bouncing on his back as he grinned, his voice quick and eager. "They're not just playing, Bhima! Look—those colts are listening! I'd shoot better, but that's pretty good!"
Kunti handed the rope to Yudhishthira, stepping down to the plateau, her voice warm and steady as she called to the twins. "Bring them here, my loves. Let's tie them up—keep them with us. You've done something special today."
Nakula turned, his colt following as he held the carrot high, his voice soft and cheerful. "He's coming! See, Mother? He's mine now—nice and good!" He walked slowly, the colt's nose brushing his shoulder, its steps light and trusting.
Sahadeva guided his colt with a gentle nudge, his voice calm and clear as he glanced back. "This one's smart. He knows me. Slow steps, Nakula—keep him happy." The gray colt followed, its mane swaying, its eyes fixed on Sahadeva's steady gaze.
Kunti met them halfway, her hands deft as she looped the rope around the brown colt's neck, tying it loose but secure, her voice awed and tender. "Perfect, Nakula. So gentle—he trusts you already." She moved to the gray colt, securing its rope as she glanced at Sahadeva, her smile deepening. "And you, my wise one—reading him like that. You're both wonders."
Bhima clapped his hands, his laugh loud and hearty as he stomped over, his voice rough but impressed. "Wonders, huh? Guess they're not bad! Still think wrestling's faster—bam, done!"
Arjuna darted between the colts, his voice bright and teasing as he patted their flanks, his bow swinging. "Faster, sure, but they'd kick you, Bhima! Nakula and Sahadeva win this one—I'll cheer for them!"
Yudhishthira stepped down, the knotted vine in his hands as he nodded, his voice steady and warm. "They win, yes. Grace and mind—better than fists or arrows today. Father'd be proud, Mother."
Kunti tied the ropes to a sturdy bush, her hands steady as she watched the colts nuzzle the twins, her pride swelling until it pressed against her chest, softening the grief that lingered there. "He would," she said, her voice low and thick. "Pandu'd see their future in this—horses tamed at three. My boys, all of you—growing into something grand."
Nakula giggled, stroking his colt's mane as he looked up, his voice soft and happy. "He's my friend now! I'll call him Brown—easy name!" He hugged the colt's neck, his small arms barely reaching around, his smile bright as the sunset.
Sahadeva patted his colt's nose, his voice quiet but firm as he nodded, his eyes sharp. "Mine's Gray. Smart one—he listens good. We'll keep them, Mother?"
Kunti knelt beside them, pulling them close as the colts nickered, her voice warm and resolute. "We'll keep them, yes. You've earned them—tamed them with your own hands. They're yours, my loves."
Bhima plopped onto the grass, stretching out with a yawn, his voice gruff but playful. "Fine, keep your horses. Wake me when they're big—I'll ride 'em then!" He grinned, his dark curls spilling over his face as he rested his head on his arms.
Arjuna laughed, aiming his bow at the sky again, his voice quick and eager. "I'll ride too! Shoot from them—best archer ever! Nakula and Sahadeva can tame more!"
Yudhishthira sat beside Kunti, his hands resting on his knees as he watched the colts, his voice calm and steady. "They'll tame plenty, I think. This is just the start—grace and intellect, growing strong. We'll need that, Mother."
Kunti's hands lingered on the twins' curls, her eyes tracing their small faces, their gentle triumph, and she nodded, her voice soft but firm. "We will. All of you—your gifts together. My pride, my strength." The plateau glowed around them, the wildflowers swaying, the colts settling as the sky deepened to purple, her resolve deepening to protect their light.