When the foals moved towards her in an attempt to suckle once more, Ylva swallowed her tears as best she could, and sent the universe a silent prayer that, through some miracle, she might be able to give them something. Of course, no such thing happened, and soon the foals gave up. Ylva watched them settle down for a rest, and mused on the life that grew inside her. Would she even be able to provide for her own child when the time came? Had these foals been sent to her as a warning?
As the last rays of sunlight faded into dusk, Ylva stood, quietly and thoughtfully watching over the foals for lack of anything else to do. Her mind felt cluttered, and memories of her family plagued her. What would they say if they knew about the situation she’d found herself in: knocked up by the first stallion she’d stumbled across, and guardian over a pair of orphans that were doomed to die? When she had fled her homeland in shame, she certainly could not have anticipated that this was the future that awaited her.
Then she felt it: a wetness between her thighs, like nothing she’d ever felt before. Ylva craned her head around and sniffed at the space between her legs to find something warm and slightly sweet trickling from her swelling udders. Her ears pricked. Could it be? Lifting her head, she nickered to the twins encouragingly. There was only one way to find out if her prayers had been answered.
2; norwegian fjord; red dun pangare; 14hh
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