Their foal sat placidly on the sand as Carisa prodded him, his long legs folded awkwardly beneath him. As she stepped away, a suddenly gust sent a fine mist of sand into the air, causing his body to rock forward in a sudden sneeze. Miraculously, he managed not to completely face-plant into the ground, and after a moment of regaining his bearings, the colt tentatively lifted his hindquarters, wobbing like a leaf in a breeze. There he was poised for a few seconds, before stumbling onto all four feet and promptly falling again.
Orhan took a step forward, wanting to help but not sure if he could or should. This is normal, he reassured himself. He could remember nothing of his own birth, but the stallion knew enough to know that foals had to find their feet themselves. His eyes darted back to Carisa just in time to catch her comforting nod. A gentle smile crept across his mouth in return. In that moment, all his doubts were gone. Carisa had given him a gift which would help fill some of the hole Vesti and Izzy had left. “Thank you,” he replied, and leaned forward to touch her velvet snout with his own. “He is beautiful.”
A thought struck him then, and he looked back to the colt to find that that he was on all fours and regarding them with guileless sea-green eyes. A tiny whinny blew from his nostrils. Still he was unsteady, and his ears still limp atop his head, but as Orhan watched with incredulity, his son slowly walked forward, one uncertain step at a time, until he had reached Carisa’s golden side and begun fumbling beneath her to nurse. Orhan’s gaze roamed the pale, perfect body of the colt, noting the darker color to his mane and tail that was not dissimilar to the sand that still clung to his right side. Red and cream. My little ember moon.
“Do you have any name ideas?” he asked, lifting his head so that the tall mare could catch his words. His ears were pricked and his expression was quietly hopeful.
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