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Though her birth had been a harrowing trial that both mother and daughter had almost failed to endure, Lilika could not help but to love the delicate filly. From the moment she had laid eyes on the familiar laced edges of the soft blanket draped across her hindquarters, the blue roan mare had held her daughter close to her with a fierce devotion, watching with a mixture of trepidation and tranquility when those willowy limbs had unfolded to bear her upright for the first time only moments after her arrival on this earth. For Lilika, recovery was not such a simple matter; she had eventually succeeded in standing after an hour of recuperation to allow her daughter to feed, but the mare tired easily and, as a result of the breech birth, was as unsteady on her feet as her newborn. Sunrises and sunsets melded together in a blur of happiness as the pair grew stronger together, and eventually Gnome's anxieties were eased enough that he could bear to leave them - at first for mere moments, and now for longer stretches of time.
Lilika still felt the familiar pang of fear and anguish when his burnished coat was swallowed by the waves, but it was easier to let go of him now that a piece of him would always remain at her side. And as her physical limbs have begun to regain their vitality, so her figurative legs were becoming stronger. Her docile, domestic nature is being forged anew by the flames of her life's trials; Lilika is less dependent, now, standing tall and confident on this summer's day as she watches her daughter play in the knee-high grass of the Prairie. Iris darts here and there, nips at the verdant shoots in imitation of her dam, presses her small muzzle affectionately into the thick muscles of her dam's chest. After a time, the ominous sky makes good on its promise of rain, and the filly curls up beneath Lilika, dozing contentedly in the refuge her mother's body provides from the brief downpour. Blowing a gentle exhale into the dark-mahogany coat of her daughter, Lilika relaxes the tension in her body, if not her senses; though the whiff of coyotes is faint here under Gnome's protection, it is a reminder of the constant vigilance necessary for their kind to survive.
Though she remains studiously alert, Lilika does not truly anticipate any disruption or danger. When the unfamiliar call first reaches her ears, she is frozen for several moments by unease and uncertainty, hearing her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. She's heard the rumors, of course, of a stallion on Luthien who has decided to treat the claimed mares of other men with light-fingered contempt. What if he has come to steal them away? Would he hurt her daughter, or - an icy dagger of fear drives itself deep into her breast - kill her? Her dark eyes trace the familiar outlines of the blanket on her daughter's rump, and it strengthens Lily's resolve; casting a final wary glance over the immediate vicinity, she steps cautiously over Iris's prostrate form, and then charges straight toward the grey-and-white intruder who lingers near the border of her home.
The sight of the woman draws the blue roan mare up short, however, her heavy hooves digging into the rain-softened earth to bring her to an immediate halt. Her ears turned half-back distrustfully, but without any sign of maliciousness in her expression, she studies the stranger for a moment. The haggard lines of the other mare's face, the slump to her shoulders. And her misgivings melt away in a rush of compassion, her muzzle extending tentatively, if hesitantly, to exchange a breath in the customary greeting of her kind. The gesture is followed by a rush of words that betray her insecurity; she has only ever interacted with Gnome and her daughter among her own kind. She knows nothing of equine social dynamics, does not even know whether to appear dominant or submissive to this stranger. So she settles for treating her as an equal; as a potential friend.
"I-I am Lily. Did Gnome invite you here?"
As she awaits a response, her dark eyes rake the grasses for her sleeping child's form, her limbs tensed for flight if any threat to Iris's safety should make itself known.
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mare .. 5 years .. blue roan .. moriesian .. 16 hands
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