Long locks of flaxen brush the damp neck of a soon to be mother as a breeze swirls around her, cooling her darkening skin as sweet lathers across her heated body. Harsh pants of breath saw through her nares before a groan escapes her slightly parted lips, eyes closed against the pain that gnaws its way through her swollen and heaving barrel. Rolling onto her side, legs dig into the sand as ripples cascade down her flank as she pushes and tries to rid herself of the thing that is causing it all.


Soon another life had joined this world and as it does, Alika raises up to peer back at the bundle. It was strange looking to her but soon enough it would look like any other foal as she begins to process of cleaning away the birth. For now it is the color of pink, the skin stained from its delivery but with time it would turn as white as snow. It caused the mother to smile softly, thinking of how such season brought with it such cold beauty. She did not wish that temperament upon her daughter, but instead wanted the soft touch like the powder of a freshly fallen snow.


As the child slowly comes to life, raising its head and blinking open its ocean blue eyes; a name flits its way through the mother’s mind. “Mae” she whispers and reaches out to nuzzle the girl’s delicate neck. “You’re my little Mae” Of course she did not receive and answer but she had not been looking for one. Slowly the mother then stood, reaching down to the give the girl and encouraging nudge to do the same. Slowly the followed suit, the age old instinct to rise too much for her to resist. It took several tries but finally she was able to stand upon wobbly legs, peering out at the new and foreign place that surrounded her.


Once she had gained her balanced and quit rocking back and forth as if she were about to fall, Mae took her very first steps. Alika watched carefully of her progress, proud but also weary of their surroundings. It was hard to watch both and in a way she wished she had called out to her stallion, having him near would have put her mind at rest. But this was a time for solitude with her child and although no mare had told her this, the mother knew this just as her child had known how to stand.


Reaching out, Mae brushed her soft baby lips against her mother’s shoulder, parting them and sticking her tongue out as she looked for milk. With gentle guiding nudges she makes her way slowly, step by step to where the meal is hidden away. The reward for her effort is great and she sucks away greedily at her mother’s teat. It is only then that Alika calls out, hoping that Midas is close by to her little hideaway amongst the palms and rock that he will be able to find them.