After the encounter with the little forest nymph, Talien saw very little of Rhaego, save for when the spring months brought about the promise of new life. He had sought her out, with the same hunger and lust in his deep amber eyes. The same hunger and fire that had called to him on that first day in the meadows when their coupling brought about the birth of Baylor. She had allowed him to take her once more, savoring the feel of his strong back upon hers and the ultimate domination that his strong body ensured. She challenged him, but not nearly as much as he challenged her and the pleasure she found in his fierce, primitive nature.

But as the spring days wore into summer, and those months fell into autumn, Talien found that Rhaego too had vanished. Not gone as in he was far from the borders of which he so fiercely protected, but simply lost in his own thoughts and contented to patrol his hands alone saving the company of the forests and hillsides. She herself took to the comforts of silence and allowed herself to linger farther and farther away from the small band of mares. Each day her sides grew with the parasitic life inside and hunger for nourishment for the child. She can sense the others nearby, every now and then the echoes of their conversations catch her listening ears but it is never something more mundane than comments on the weather or the raising of children.

The almost isolation she had put herself is not all bad however. Not unlike her homelands of Paraiso, the Dale is a beautiful and peaceful place. It has its own secrets and eerie mysteries whispered to her by the winds. She imagines sometimes that she can feel the warmth of her mother and father on the breeze, especially as the day grows near for her to birth the child within her womb... but she knows that it is merely a false hope... for surely they have turned their back upon her in much the same way that she has upon them, for no doubt that is the way they will see things. She chose her path the moment that she stepped foot into the Dale and followed Rhaego's scent even after learning who he was. Enemy of her father... her chosen bedmate and sire of her offspring. Rhaego the fierce.

She did not know if she loved him, did not know if she was even capable of believing in love any longer. But she knew that her heart longed to be here... to learn all that the emotionless stallion dared to offer. He was her mystery to solve and it was that mystery that bid her stay and make her place here in his herd.

Maybe a new, quiet life here could make up for all that she’s lost.

But, when the day finally rolls around and the labor pains hit, she can’t help but be afraid. It is the curse of a female. She has done it before... she knows from experience that the pain will only worsen as is a female's curse... but she is prepared. She has done it alone several times now and it is what is expected... to be alone.

Instinct takes over now, as the delicate beauty of brandished gold pushing out the fear and focuses on the task at hand. She settles herself now, as the contractions begin to grow stronger, amid the thick grasses of an open hillside, bathed in the warmth of the golden sun. It does not take long now, in less than an hour, a soft, sticky bundle lies in the grass at her feet. Full of a new mother's anxiety, she rises on weary feet still wobbling beneath the strain and effort of pushing the foal from her body. She reaches out to the damp bundle with a shaking muzzle, wuffing her hot breath against its skin. Then it moves. Alive!

Relief floods over her now as she sets to work, cleaning the membrane and what remained of the shredded birthing sac off the child, letting the soft pressure from her tongue stimulate the foal into action. Depthless silver blue eyes blink slowly now as she pauses, rising her head long enough to examine the creature created in a night of passion. It is a colt, a proud son of the dalean king. Like his father, he sports the same thick set body and straight profile. He grunted now as the need for sustenance and the scent of her milk swollen teats urged him into motion. He fought with himself for a time, squirming amid the tangle of long legs until finally he is able to free himself and after a few failed attempts rise on shaking legs.

Talien takes a step towards him now, nudging the small damp body towards her side where he hungrily suckled. A warm smiles tugs at her lips as the mare of dusted gold nuzzles the colt. "Ragnar..." she whispers, letting her warm breathe heat the colt's russet coat, causing his skin to shudder beneath her touch. A single ear flickers back towards the sound of her voice but he does not turn to her, instead he continues to drink deeply, gaining strength from her milk. A soft chuckle escapes her lips now as she turns her head from him and faces the oncoming breeze, letting the warmth wash over her petite figure and encircle mother and son in its comforting embrace. "yes... Ragnar is what you shall be called... Ragnar the strong." she murmurs before tossing her head and settling in to graze from what remained of the dying green shoots.