To say Harlequin was only mildly pleased with herself would be an understatement. The small black and white patched mare was ecstatic with her beautiful daughter. It was strange, the bold splotches of mahogany skin that shown brightly against the pale white of Twinge’s coat. Harlequin would have expected the little girl to resemble her herself and her siblings at the very least. All of Soljor’s children with the pale grey mare CUA had turned out with their sire’s notorious white splotches. Every child she ever imagined that she and the desert king might create would have equally shared in the striking dark and light contrast. However Twinge was the oddball and Harlequin did not mind it in the slightest. Obsessively her dark near-black eyes trailed over the glossy sheen of Twinge’s coat and the manner in which her sleek neck curled and arches with each prancing step of her tiny hooves. Her small raven tipped ears flicker back and forth atop her skull and Harlequin can only imagine of the day when her long black and white mane filtered down in endless curls against the sharp curve of her shoulder. Though she was young, already Harlequin could see herself in the girl, in the small delicate features of her face and defined brows above her eyes. Likewise she could also see Cain in her. Wisps of hair cling to her hocks, whispers of strong sturdy legs that would mature with age until she too claimed long flowing feathers that gathered around her hooves. It was Cain’s dark amber eyes that she saw, when the filly gazed up at her with such adoration, a stubbornness that Harlequin knew could belong to know other but Cain. Yes, Twinge was the perfect combination of both her parents and despite her original scoffing at the idea of ever becoming a mother, Harlequin could not deny that they did create quite the stunning daughter.



Small dark ears perk as Cain’s sturdy frame breaks away from their small herd. Even from the distance Harlequin does not miss the excitement in his gaze as he traces the fine curves and contours of Twinge’s small figure. Ashen lips peel back into the vainest of grins as slender figure dances towards his own. Small ears flicker amid the boundless curls of ivory mane as she comes to a halting stop before him. Paper thin nostrils flare as sharply she inhales his testosterone filled scent, her own dark tail flagging behind her in an exaggerated display. "Told you I would bear you a child." she taunts, ashen labrums turned upwards in the beginnings of a smile. Dark lashes blink slowly over even darker eyes as sleek serpentine arches to gaze fondly toTwinge, encouraging her forward though the filly need not much encouragement from her dam.

She does not miss his approach, the hardened clip of his hooves against rocky soil or the gentleness in his gruff tone as he whickers to them. She does not miss the excitement that clings to mother's skin like sand during a storm. He was familiar even in his great form that towered easily over her own. However mother does not fear him, her excitement feeding into Twinge's own which brought the small filly prancing forward on slender legs, her own mahogany neck arching elegantly, damped by the hard rays of sunlight. Dark eyes blink up at him as she stretches her head towards him, blinking in the boundless curls of his thick white and black mane. His scent enveloped her, familiar and marked by the same comfort as that of her own mother. Though she was still young yet, she knew that he was to be trusted in the same was she trusted the black and white mare. His nearness meant comfort.

A single raven tipped dial swivels atop her skull as his thick saucer-like hooves paw at the sandy ground, sending a small plume of dust into the ever present zephyrs. A hard snort bursts past her own lips as she arches her neck to gaze down at her own forelegs, lifting one to strike back against the earth much like the great stallion before her. Perhaps he was on to something. It was fun. An impish smile plays upon her lips as she dances forward in delight, raking first one and then the other forelimb against the hard ground, her gaze drifting back up towards the stallion as though to say 'see, I can do it too'

Harlequin smiled warmly, watching Twinge interact with her sire. Though her initial feelings for Cain were far from the best, through the passing seasons she had grown to adore him in a sense of respect. He did not coddle her, nor did he try any longer to restrain her with ties and chains, instead he reveled in her wild ways and showered her with approving gazes and hungry eyes. A quite suiting look if she did say so herself and no doubt not one she would find anywhere else. No doubt whatever history her father had once built upon Tinuvel had disappeared with the passing tides and instead she has only what future she herself could create. A future here on Salem.

"Twinge is her name..." she breathes, bumping her velvet muzzle against his own, savoring the electric heat that the faint touch created, a sensation reminding her much of the day that their coupling had created the small filly that now pranced and danced at her side. A twinge of hope or a twinge of fear, only time would tell how the girl would approach the world. Regardless Harlequin held no doubt that her fate would be her own. "Do you approve?" she inquires, a single brow raising in apprehension as she regarded Cain with a cool expression, waiting with baited breath for what words might leave his lips.