Falls

The ocean's salty waters caress her thin pearly skin, she shivers against its cold grasp. How long as she struggled against the waves? How many hours? She can not remember, the only thought is she must feel the firm ground beneath her hooves. In the middle of the night she had entered the waters, unsure of where they would take her. Back to the Lost Islands? She hoped that they would. Like a foolish young filly, she had returned to her homelands, in hopes that she would see her father. Now filled with disappointment, she swims back to the Islands.

Inky darkness surrounds her, the night greedily envelops the pale mare. Her crystal blue eyes strain and squint as salty waters splashes her delicate face. She snorts through delicate pink nostrils, inhaling sharply, a familiar scent causes a sigh of relief. Home. Her struggle would soon end, but as if in protest a sharp pain rips through her abdomen. She clinches her teeth, and kicks harder towards the shore. Her foal. Deep down she knows that the time draws near.

As her hooves touch the sandy shores, her knees buckle, her strength was fleeting. Yet, the pearly mare struggles up the beach and finds a secluded stand of trees. Their branches hang low, enveloping her within their grasp, as if to protect her from the prying eyes of the world. She lays herself flat, and begins to process of bringing forth life into the world. She clinches her eyes together as the labor pains continue, she struggles against the pain. A groan escapes her lips as the last contraction forces her foal into the world.

Slowly and gingerly, she climbs to her feet. Each motion causes searing pain throughout her protesting muscles, until her crystal eyes fall on her foal. A smile touches her pink lips as she gazes upon the pure white coat with hints of golden tones, and the medicine hat of her father. She holds her breath at the beauty of the filly, then quickly begins the work of cleaning off her baby. She sighs contently in this moment, as her eyes travel the length of her filly, she can not help but think of the perfect name for her.

"Calypso, my beautiful girl." She whispers. As if she understood Calypso turns her delicate head upwards to look at the pearly face of her mother. She reaches a delicate pink muzzle to touch that of her mothers.