Everything had been warm and quiet for the longest time. There had never really been a particularly definitive line between when he had crossed over from unconsciousness to consciousness, but it had happened rather quickly. First he had been snuggled up to something wet and warm, and the next moment he had fallen out of his bed into another soft, warm place. This time, the world was bright and filled up with colours that would have made him squint if he knew how to. Instead, there had been something nudging him, pushing him to breathe and move, reminding him to open his eyes and look around.

The great red-brown thing that hangs in his face for a moment seems familiar, and he finds that he rather likes it, despite not knowing what (or rather who) it was. The large thing was gentle when it touched him; touching his face and his neck, then his body- sending a fabulous tingling sensation all across his skin as he starts to come alive. Eventually, the creature stops and after what must have been a rather encouraging nudge, the boy starts to stand. First, awkwardly, he lifts his hind legs, wobbling with two legs near-straight and the other two legs still curled up under his breast, his rear end topples over to the side. Slightly discouraged, he looks up to the red-brown thing and wheezes a small bleat in protest.

For a little while, he stayed on the ground, more than content to let his mother (as he would eventually learn that this large creature was his mother and the only family that he had in the world right now) lick at his face and haunches.

Determined and slowly growing hungry, the boy attempts to stand once more, this time starting with his front end instead of his back end, and finding results that were much better. While resting in a strange sitting position, the colt carefully and weakly straightens his hind legs. Finally on all fours- though he had found success quicker than most infants his age, the dark skinned child stands splay-legged and shivery for a few moments. Despite the world being bright outside of his mother's womb, he was pleased with the heat that washed naturally over his skin, keeping him warm and comfortable in his mother's shadow. As if suddenly reminded of the task at hand, the boy gives another small bleat that sounded like a squeak more than anything, and starts to hobble towards his mother.

As though guided by instincts that he would never knew that he had, the boy starts to rub his nose along the mare's belly, finding the source of his meals for many weeks to come and feeding more than happily.