The sound of Bacardi's voice fills Havelle with mixed feelings of affection and panic. The filly's ears swivel, alarmed by his approach like she would be alarmed by the approach of a jungle cat. She turns to face him. Her eyes, at first wide and dry, begin to shine with tears. She sucks in a breath as if to speak, but they hang in silence for a moment longer. Havelle doesn't know how to say what she needs to say. This is big news for the both of them. Havelle is afraid such news will send her young lover running for the hills.
Bacardi... she chokes. A single tear escapes and rolls down her cheek. I'm pregnant. She murnurs into the cold, winter air. Her breath curls of her lips like smoke. These are the smoldering remains of one hot night of passion.
Havelle shivers, but not from the cold. What are they going to do? They can't be parents. Havelle doesn't know the first thing about foals. Where will they live? Can they be together or will Havelle have to go crawling back to Paradise and admit her misdeeds to her mother and Rougaru? What will her mother think? Will Rougaru allow someone else's foal to be born and raised within his borders? Not all stallions are so tolerant.