Soljor watched the little chestnut struggle as she attempted to climb to her feet. Every foal had to do it and do it alone. He was proud when she finally managed to do it, standing atop her little legs that almost seemed too thin to support her weight. He knew she could do it. Arachne comments on her coat.

“Already a mommy’s girl, eh?” Soljor smiled. He tried to picture the grey mare in front of him as a red. She was beautiful either way. Would this filly also grey? There seemed to be a number of those around the Bay. He put such questions out of his mind for now. “You’re beautiful as a grey as well.” He said. His thoughts were interrupted by a little thud against his chest.

His head turned down and he smiled at the little girl. She had been nearly knocked back on her rump, but she’d held steady. He nodded to himself.

“You’ll get there,” He promised the girl, reaching out his dark nose to bump her red one. Arachne spoke again, a name this time. Cloud and passion? He looked at the red and white filly. “They say red is the color of passion. With the white, it makes perfect sense.” He smiled at Arachne. “A fitting name, Arachne.” Spring was just beginning now, and Soljor knew more of this was to come.