Common

Solomon

It was not often that one scented a fresh birth on the common and he found himself drawn towards it out of a rare sense of civic duty. He knew little of the process that led to the births of the children that he placed within their wombs but knew enough to know how vulnerable mares were during the process. The fresh scent of blood served as an aphrodisiac to any predator with half a brain, and a mare exhausted with a wobbly newborn would be easy prey.

He does not know the spotted mare he paces toward, but he keeps guard all the same far enough away so that he does not pressure her further with his presence. Solomon has been chased away from enough birthing scenes to know that he was liable to get his rear end eviscerated if he intruded too early.

The time spent watching over her left him plenty of time to become attached to the spotted mare. Her dark coat reminded him of a younger version of Daciana, and he could easily imagine the two of them side by side in the Cove, where he might better protect her. Rehoboam would appreciate it too, having a mother of his own. Solomon was not sure where Keres had fled to, and while he had no guarantee that this spotted mare would take him, he was fairly certain that he could bait her into joining him with pleas of help for his son.

He resolved to give the mare enough time to rise and nurse, enough time for the foal to nap and gain a modicum of strength before he escorted them both to the Cove. They would need to skirt the westernmost edges of the Peak to reduce the amount of time swimming, but it would be doable. It was lucky, he thought, that he'd found her before the predators did. A service that he was providing for her, if he was honest, and while he knew, realistically, that she would not thank him, a part of him believed that she should.

Eventually, the worst of it seems to have passed and he creeps closer, knowingly a voyeur into her life. In a way, he felt invested in the process, although he does not even know her name yet. Worryingly, the mare does not seem joyous the way most new mothers are. She rips the covering from the still form at her hind end and he watches in slow motion as the spotted mare's world falls apart right before him. Solomon freezes, indecision written all over his face as he watches her nuzzle and lick the tiny figure, but when her hooves lift to paw at the child, the block within him breaks and he surges forward, even as she cries out.

"Hey, hey now." Solomon's voice is low, heavy with attempted comfort even as he bodily places himself between the mare and her stillborn child. Slowly but steadily he attempts to move her away from the depressingly still body.

There is a choice that he makes, that a part of him knows he will come to look upon later with some modicum of uncertainty. He cannot bring himself to call it regret, to claim that he will feel truly bad for making a decision that will benefit his family. Bodily, Solomon blocks her path forward while speaking as quickly as he can. "There's nothing that can be done now, sweetheart. I am sorry for your loss, but staying here isn't going to change what happened. But I need your help, love. My infant son needs someone to care for him. Let me get you somewhere safe, and I'll lay your child to rest."

Solomon says this, even as he ushers her forward, determined to move her past the form of her child. Lingering here would only do more damage to her heart and spirit. Should she move to go past him, she would be met with pinned ears and the sharp bite of teeth as he attempts to bodily move her away.

Dutch Harness Horse Mutt | Champagne Grullo Tobiano Stallion | 17 Hands | The Cove