Merete’s bewilderment left her frozen, although Drika’s question did not seem to have the same effect on Zevulun. As he started to speak Merete’s gaze fixed on him and hardened, pushing herself to interrupt but finding herself too startled to make it in time. She had no intention of lying to her daughter, or to Zevulun, but this… Well, it was not exactly how she had planned on breaking the news to either of them, or introducing them for the first time. “Whaaat?” came Drika’s voice, astounded, as she glanced between her parents with wide, tawny eyes, her jaw slightly slack. “Y-You? You’re my dad?” She turned to her mother. “Is he?” she asked, her head tilted, tail flicking with barely contained excitement. Merete hesitated just a moment, but she knew defeat when she saw it. With a small sigh she reached for her daughter to comfort her. “Yes,” she replied slowly. “This is him.” Drika had no time for her mother’s comfort, however – there was something much more exciting to contend with. With an excited squeal she bounced toward the tall, creamy stallion without any further questioning in her mind. She could hardly keep her feet on the ground. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet you! I’m Drika! You’ve got spots like me!” |