"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."

The contractions began before the mare had even broken the surf.

She had accepted Dogun's offer to join his herd, the fear of being alone and with child having driven her to sickness day in and day out. Despite securing a home, the mare felt no relief. She delayed her plans to the leave the common gaits, and as her trembling legs finally reached a depth of where she could no longer stand among the surf, she cursed herself for that decision. The mare snorted something foul, pushing a creamy huff of warm carbon dioxide from her dark nostrils as she stood in chest-deep water now, her body shivering from the sudden drop in temperature. She cursed herself in a hushed but hostile tone, lobes pulled back flat against her neck.

The waves had reached her neck, the current splashing against her chin and jawbone now and the mare struggled not to gasp as each contraction threatened to pull her under the surface. This is where I'm going to die, she thought, chocolate orbs wide as she scanned the nothingness that surrounded her, just water and clouded skies. This is where I deserve to die, she convinced herself. In death, at least there would be no more need for escaping, no more running. The mare could finally rest.r She could see her family again. She could save this child from the cruelty of the common world. For a split second, she worried if Dogun, or hell, even Dexter, would care, that if in a day's time he found her bloated, limp carcass along the shoreline, would he even stop to look at her, or would he keep walking, passing over her as if she was nothing more than another piece of driftwood, littering the coastline.

She felt warm all of a sudden, a sudden burst of life fueling her as her thick legs kicked out in the waters, propelling her forward. A wave crashed over her head, sending her completely under for just a moment, but the mare regained control over her ability swim, resurfacing and snorting vigorously into the chilly air. She cried out, if for no one else to hear but herself, a hearty and gurgling cry, a call any living thing would recognize as utter and complete sadness. She shouted again, vocal chords straining to their maximum as she shrieked, snorting in hardy blow as she swam, this time toward what appeared to the hazy shore of Tinuvel. When she rose from the depths, her body slick and clean from the water that hung over her. She stumbled to her knees when she felt the sand begin to loosen, but carried on until she reached the sparce foliage several feet away. Dogun's stench was heavy in the howling wind now and she felt brief relief knowing she had survived the swim and made it to her destination. Among the shrubs is where the mare finally dropped to the ground, feeling exhausted and foolish, and perhaps more rage-filled than ever.

Just before nightfall, the excruciating pain of child birth ended. The child was alive. It squirmed to its feet in no time. Meanwhile, Macabre lay limp on the ground, her coat wet in hardened tufts from the seawater and sweat. The child seemed weak, like something was wrong with it. Briefly, her heart fluttered with worry in her chest, but the emotion was quick, fleeting.