Being this close to Zevulun reminds Avalon of those early days of their relationship, sequestered away in the cave as she adjusted to the shock of a Tinuvel winter. She can’t say she enjoyed the weather, but the company had been incredible. She still feels a little awkward that she hasn’t met Mariael yet, and Avalon can only imagine the look on the mare’s face when Zevulun finally introduces them, and with a new foal no less.

She almost snorts in amusement at the thought, choosing instead to distract herself with Zevulun’s scent so as not to startle their daughter. When she turns to the filly, she too notices the slight trembling in the newborn’s legs. She chuckles quietly. ”She’ll be fine.” All at once, she feels the exhaustion that the foal is exhibiting. ”She and I have had a long day.”

As if on cue, the filly yawns and finally lets her legs fold under her as her tiny body sinks back to the ground. Apparently a nap is in order before her first meal.

Avalon leans her shoulder against Zevulun’s sturdy form to keep her upright as she waits to get her second wind. At his question, she suddenly looks sheepish, cutting her eyes over to him from under her dark forelock. ”I’ve tossed a few ideas around over the last few months. I thought it would be nice to give her a name that fits in with your family.” She pauses for a moment to consider their perfect child, hoping the name will sound as good out loud as it does in her head. ”What do you think about calling her Izizel?”