Valentine smiled warmly, glad to hear that Guadalupe was okay. Birthing season was always difficult – not only did he have to worry about all of the foals being safely delivered, but the mothers making it through the strenuous ordeal themselves. He was surprised to discover, however, that she hadn’t heard that twins were a real possibility – though they were rare on the Lost Islands, their occurrence was generally well-known, and Valentine had been blessed with one set of his own already.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said, his expression sobering as Guadalupe revealed the sad fate of her own mother. He could only imagine how much more terrifying that had made the birth for her as he turned his own gaze towards the new-born foals.

They were such beautiful little things, and the names Guadalupe had chosen seemed to fit them perfectly, even though Valentine did not know the full meaning that lay behind her decisions. Her reasoning sounded noble, however, and he had no reason to question it. The naming was the mother’s right, he had always thought, since she went through the trouble of bringing them into this world.

“They’re beautiful names,” he replied with a smile, dragging his gaze back to Guadalupe for a moment to offer her a reassuring smile. His tone was serious and honest, though he did not risk prying further into her history at that moment.

For now, he just wanted to bask in the happiness of the twins’ birth.

He watched the children for a moment, still smiling warmly as he watched them both turn their curious eyes towards him now that they had sated their hunger. He lowered his pink-white nose towards them. The fiery red colt, Bleddyn, tottered towards him first, his steps unsteady but determined as he reached out to probe his father’s face with a small squeak of intrigue. Chuckling, Valentine turned his gaze towards Sefarina to see how she would react.

At the sound of Guadalupe’s voice, he lifted his head again to look at her as she spoke. He was quiet, hearing the earnest note in her tone and allowing her to get out every word that she wanted to speak. Her speech touched him, but no part so much as the end. His expression cracked into a wide, honest smile instinctively.

“Me too, Guadalupe,” he said simply, his voice quiet but frank. “Me too.”

VALENTINE
you bleed just to know you’re alive