It was amazing how quickly instincts worked on the foals, pushing them to their feet and then to her side, with no fear or knowledge that she was a complete stranger. For all they knew, she was their mother, which was terrifying thought on its own. Ylva felt her heart swelling and breaking all at once when they attempted to suckle from her. The sensation was the strangest, tickliest thing she had ever felt, and she resisted the urge to cow kick at the foals to stop them.
“I have nothing for you. I am so sorry,” she murmured, gently trying to push them away with her snout, but very quickly giving up. They knew no better, after all, and if it gave them some kind of instinctual comfort to try, then what was the problem with letting them?
But what was she to do in the meantime? Ylva looked around the meadow once more, her heart racing as though someone would come charging up to her at any moment and accuse her of trying to steal the foals. But it was still empty. She was alone. Ylva tried to avoid looking at the mare’s body that lay in the grass a short distance away, but she could not help it, and found herself staring at it. Already it was attracting flies. Who knew what else it would attract? Were there predators in these parts?
Though she had no idea what she was going to do with these foals, or how she was going to find them food, her instincts told her that at the very least she needed to take them away from this place. Gently untangling herself from the foals, Ylva took a few steps and looked back at them. “Can you follow me?” she asked, as though they could answer. “Come, let’s get away from this place.”
She would go as slowly as they needed to, and would lead them into the shelter of the trees. She would figure out where to go from there.
2; norwegian fjord; red dun pangare; 14hh
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