The prospect of fatherhood was a mix of emotions for Nephilim. Instinct told him it was a necessary part of life, nothing to apply feelings toward and simply something to do in order to continue the preservation of his kind. His heart, however, told him many, many things. It was an opportunity to right the wrongs which he had suffered as a foal; Nephilim had no father figure, given that his blood-sire was a horrific monster as far as he was to understand it and his mother had done her best to deny him any sort of bond with Lyden of the Forest. Now, as a father, Nephilim could be the place in a child’s life that would fill what had been absent from his. Yet, given that he’d had no father, he was also quite fearful that he would stumble and somehow make things worse. How was he to know how to raise a foal? How was he to teach them right from wrong and to make sure they did well in the world and succeeded in all their heart desired?

The answers evaded him and the knowledge that only time and practice would fulfil them was worrying. Nephilim did not speak as to why he cared so greatly to be a father who was a constant figure in the life of his children. He did not speak as to why he would watch mares so very, very carefully when they raised their foals and how he knew, if there was ever one ill strike against a child, he would sweep in like a sudden storm.

He’d silently warred within himself with each day that crawled passed, each day that Rohanne’s belly swelled. He felt a strange warmth and affection in his heart (strange because he had not felt such kind, positive emotions before) which crawled up into his throat as if threatening to spill forth each time he looked at her. If not for the black cloud that was Roza, whose anger of him had certainly not simmered during her stay in the Bay, Nephilim might have grown closer to Rohanne as their child developed in her womb. But, to keep both sisters complacent, as though afraid Rohanne would decide to leave and not allow their child to be raised in Tinuvel, Nephilim kept a small distance, and kept whatever fragile balance of peace between them he could find. However, there were certainly times both sisters might have caught his gold eyes hovering on Rohanne with a strange, small smile on his mouth before he managed to look away.

Now, finally, the waiting had passed. Roza and Rohanne both retreated into the belly of the Bay’s borders and Nephilim knew why. He waited anxiously for their return, never straying too far from the herd in case they came back when he wasn’t present. He wanted to be the first to lay his eyes on his firstborn and to greet the foal, to welcome it to its new family. Tithe, he imagined, would be happy to have a foal his age to spend time with.

On the horizon were two figures, slowly approaching. Nephilim’s muscles tensed beneath his coat, his dished skull jerked up and his pupils trembled in beds of gold as he stared hard in the sister’s direction. His gaze jerked over them, behind them, at their legs, at their faces, behind them, back to their faces… he looked everywhere as they drew near but nowhere did he catch the sight of a new, wobbly-legged foal in their wake. His heart seized and a chill swept down his spine. Nephilim feared the worst only because he knew what a mare might be capable of…

I wanted to kill you. I wanted to kill you before you could haunt me.

He did not think Rohanne was capable of such a thing. But… his gold gaze flashed to Roza, his ears turned back (though they did not pin). There was no secret to her loathing of him, but did it go as deep as to kill his child? Surely she wouldn’t do such a thing to her sister, who would likely be devastated were her child to be killed. Roza’s love for Rohanne was the only reassurance he had and he clung to it, desperately, because he knew Rohanne could not say a word to keep him from driving Roza to the sea if she was responsible for the lack of child at her sister’s side.

He felt a sickness pitch in his stomach but knew that he had every right to ask what had happened, no matter if he feared the outcome. He started forward, meeting them, heart plummeting at the emptiness and misery painted painstakingly clear on Rohanne’s face. “What happened?” Only two words and yet they felt like the hardest he’d ever had to ask.