Since Zjeena's departure there's been one mare who's always there for her, and that mare is Sabela. Not only were Sabela and her mother close, but she has been incredibly supportive for Havelle through this difficult time. As her bother becomes more distant, Havelle finds herself gravitating towards Sabela even more. Havelle knows Sabela and Zjeena are not sisters, but she views Sabela as somewhat of an aunt.

Havelle is the first to notice that Sabela is gone. Havelle likes to sleep near Sabela. Her presence is a comfort, so her absence leaves Havelle feeling cold and exposed under the vast open sky of the Bay. Even in her sleep, the feeling is enough to wake her. She knows the older mare is nearing the end of her pregnancy, so she assumes she's gone to give birth. Havelle hesitates at first. She kills some time by grazing alone along the dark and muddied hillside, but as time stretches on, curiosity gets the best of her. The filly is itching to see what happens when a mare disappears into a thicket.

Havelle follows a narrow path into the cover of trees. Moonlight filters through the canopy, Illuminating her way in a marbled pattern of darkness and light. It doesn't take long for a sensitive nose to pick up sickening stench of blood. Havelle's stomach turns with unease. Every instinct suddenly tells her to run, but she swallows the impulse and presses on with halting steps. Zjeena explained how foals are conceived and born. She knows this can be a messy process, which is why mares often do it alone, quickly, and under the cover of night.

There is a logical explanation for the way this place smells, Havelle tells herself. Even as she happens upon a most gruesome scene, there is a long moment where her brain reels in denial. She almost feels joy as her eyes find the prone figure of Sabela in the shadows and a silhouette of a newborn foal trembling behind her. It takes longer than it should for her to realize the foal is the only one that's moving.

Havelle never intended to intrude. She wanted to spy a bit, to satisfy her curiosity, and be awake to congratulate Sabela when she returned to the herd, but any prior intention is lost in the moments that follow. The air becomes heavy and thick. She can't breathe. Her heart stalls in her chest, and a panic like none she's ever felt rises in her throat.

Havelle rushes forth, releasing a strangled cry. She roughly nudges the mare's cheek, but something is so terribly wrong. Is it the darkness obscuring her vision or is this not Sabela? Death has changed her, not just stolen the spark of life, but changed the color of her coat and the contour of her face. This isn't right. Nothing about this is right.

Havelle can't think clearly now. She nudges Sabela again and again, pushing and shoving as hot tears stream down her face. Maybe one last shove will wake her. This can't be real. This is all just a really bad dream. She nudges down the length of Sabela's body until she comes face-to-face with the delicate newborn.

She stares into the eyes of the foal, shining bright through a mess of blood and afterbirth and knows she needs to call for help. Havelle lifts her chin to stars and lets loose the most agonizing sound, a wail to chill the bravest of hearts, and stir both the sleeping and dead.

Her tongue acts on it's own, licking the lonely colt clean. Sabela wouldn't want her child left cold and dirty. It's all Havelle can think to do as she waits for someone to find them. As she works, she finds herself trembling harder than the colt. Her own fur is streaked with Sabela's blood.