A smile played on her lips as her son stared after her in confusion for a moment, then stepped too quickly and lost his footing on the shifting terrain. It seemed not so long ago that she had struggled with the sandy hills, but she realized with a jolt that the fact Rowan was even here meant it had been longer than she believed. Waiting for him to get back on his unsteady feet, she found herself wondering what his father would have thought of him. Laurel had no other to really compare him to, but the black colt was healthy and already quite independent in his actions. Perhaps Badr would have enjoyed him, though she had to admit that if the stallion were present she might not let him near Rowan for fear that he would find the child unworthy and attempt to dispose of him. It was highly likely that this fear was unfounded, but Laurel knew it and similar fears would linger in her mind from now on.

The trip he took to reach her again caused Laurel to release her first real laugh in…she didn’t know how long. It turned her face youthful again, if only for a moment; she realized, a bit too late, that perhaps laughing would ruin his self-esteem. However, she was unsure how much he could comprehend at the moment, and he seemed to have plenty of gumption anyway. She thought it best to play it safe, just in case, as from her perspective no one would take kindly to being laughed at. As she turned to continue walking toward her source of refreshment, she allowed her mind to go blank and simply relish the feeling of the child following closely. Her son, she had to remind herself, he was hers.

Upon reaching the edge of the small oasis, she immediately lowered her lips to its surface and drank deeply, feeling it quench the dry burn at the back of her throat. An ear and eye were trained on Rowan, lest he get the idea that leaving her would be an adventure. Rationally, she knew he was too young for such things, but she still suspected everyone, and one never knew when another herd member or a stranger could come snatch him away. Backing away from the water, droplets falling from her muzzle, she brushed her face along his head and neck, almost as if to see if he was still real. Then she murmured softly in his ear, although still not positive he would understand her words. ”Rest now, my son, if you wish. I will be here.”

Always, she wanted to add. But she knew it was best not to make promises it would be difficult for her to keep, and one day, she knew, he would likely leave her. Yet for now, they could exist peacefully and happily, and the newborn could choose to lie down and shut his eyes knowing she was there.