The first words she had heard in the start of her young life had been, “My little moon.” The child had laid within the fresh deep grass of a thicket with shadows snapping their long teeth at her in the moonless night. She had been born the witching hour, within the darkness close to her sweating and bleeding dam. It should have been known that a child that was a little larger and so many years after her last child would prove to be a slightly more difficult birth. But after her breathing had slowed and she moved to clean her child the stars of the night added the little illumination she needed to study her daughter’s frame. The smile that had weaved itself onto Lillith’s lips was clear and her words had been the first endearment for this child.

She may not have been created from a love match but it didn’t make her any less important in her mother’s life. Lillith’s next words to her little moon-child were to be her name, “My sweet Lluvia.” How Lillith wished her parents were close so she could have presented this child to them, to see Haunted’s face when she saw another child with pale, pale eyes. Like Lillith. Like Yejide, and Gobline, two of her younger sisters. As Lillith cleaned her child, tongue rasping over her coat and small body the child shifted and bleated with the annoyance of being ripped from such a warm place and thrown into the crisp spring air of the night. It wasn’t long before there was struggling as Lluvia tried to gain her first footing in order to gain her first meal. There was a strange focus to the child that looked out through thick curly lashes as if she could command the world with one look. Maybe she could.

The next few days progressed as they should, Lillith kept her daughter to herself, bonding and memorizing her scent, letting her child get used to those long spindly legs, and recovering from a difficult birth. Once a week had passed Lillith nudged her child awake on an early misty morning, Lluvia protested at first but followed her mother through the sun-drenched trees. She was bay like her parents, but the color looked more…. Pink, like a rose colored babe in this strange world. Her legs were dark save for the two stockings and one half-sock on another leg, splashing the side much like the minimal sabino marking beneath her belly and onto her side. Lluvia was health, her small frame would be strong, Lillith could tell that much at least, and with her father’s heavy draft looks and Lillith’s more baroque appearance there was no doubt this moon-child would mature into a young woman to hold her own. At least that was how Lillith planned it on being.

Reaching a vast meadow Lillith gave a low nicker to her daughter, a warning to stay close as she grazed. However Lluvia’s attention was wrapped in watching a herd of does and fawn grazing further off, the first creatures other than her mother or occasional bird that she had laid her eyes on, attention wrapped in those light creatures that would know no hardships of heaviness but would have problems all their own.