A sense of nervousness crawled through Fly that she had never felt before. It caused her legs to become in motion; to pace the edge of the herd where she usually kept watch. Perhaps it was because the child was getting nearer while the threat of the wolves was still present despite their lack of interest in the herd. There had also been a new predator prowling about; its harsh scent flooding her nostrils once or twice when she had crossed its trail. Regardless, Fly was not comfortable delivering this child as she had been the last.


When the ache began in her stomach the bay mare nearly panicked. Fly was not ready but regardless the child was and she was not given a choice. Slipping away from the herd, her eyes casting to where Soljor could sometimes be found; she did not see the stallion. Fly had hoped for him to be close in case she became in trouble from the predators that lurked this land, but it seemed she was on her own and she would just have to make due.


When the mare finally found a suitable spot that was hidden among vegetation, Fly lowered herself onto the ground with a groan. The ache that had started earlier in the dark now raked through the mare as if it was going to tear her in half. Her flanks rippled from the contractions as her front legs dug at the ground, needing some type of movement to try and help get some relief. But relief did not come until the foal entered this world which thankfully happened rather quickly.


Raising her head to look back at the new life she was surprised when she found a buckskin. A smile quickly crosses her dark lips as she cleans away the birth, the filly as she found quickly raising its head and trying to take in the world. Fly was not in the patient mood she had been with Stardust though, when Soljor had been there to keep them safe during the storm. Pushing her sore body to her feathered hooves, she reached down and nudge the young girl to try and stand. She gave a protesting bleat which caused the mother to jerk up her head and look around for any danger. Seeing none and scenting none, she lowered her head back down to give the girl another nudge. This time the buckskin filly did as her mother asked and tried to stand. It took three tries before her wobbly legs kept her up and she moved to take her first meal.


Fly barely had the patience to allow her daughter the time to drink. But as soon as the filly showed signs that she was full, Fly took a few steps back towards the herd. The filly, not understanding, looked at her mother with confusion on why such warmth and security had moved away. Letting out a soft encouraging nicker, Fly called her daughter closer and the girl slowly followed along. It took nearly all day to make it back to the edge of the herd but finally Fly felt some sense of security and allowed her child to lay down and rest. As Fly stood over her, nuzzling the girl softly ever so often she thought of names she liked.


“Peyton” she finally said, enjoying the sound of the name she spoke and knew it was the right one.