In truth, life with her little panther had not changed greatly. She still woke each morning to gather plants and herbs. Her path still led her to the small oasis for an early drink before the fierce desert sun warmed the water to tepid temperatures. Sidika still crested the dunes each morning to feel the wind lift her mane and so that she might look out and read the coming weather for the day.

She simply did it all with the studious little colt at her side.

Sidika did not have enough experience around children older than a few minutes at a time to understand how rare his quiet demeanor was, or how the way that she sheltered him at her side might someday make it harder for him to relate to children of his own. She knew only that every new accomplishment he achieved made her heart swell to bursting with pride for him. Sid reveled in the way that he helped her gather new herbs, even if it took her twice as long as it normally did. And, even if they were often covered in more slobber than strictly necessary.

She couldn't get enough of running her muzzle along the delicate fluff that adorned the top of his slender neck, or of staring at his handsome features as he slept flat out in the shade created by her own figure in the heat of the midday sun. Nothing compared to exploring the world vicariously through his dark gray eyes. In years past she had never allowed herself to imagine what these moments would be like. She had stolen her joy through those small moments with mothers and their newborn children, but had not dared to dream that someone would allow her the bliss of having her own child.

And certainly, not all of it was bliss. Even though Geçersiz was, by and large, a quiet colt, he grew whiny as his naptime neared, and threw tantrums when rare rain threatened to keep them beneath the cover of scant palm trees instead of out exploring. His patience for mixing poultices was far less than his delight in gathering the supplies, and often resulted exasperated sighs of annoyance.

Each one made her smile and she wouldn't trade any moment of this time with him for all the riches in the world.

Sidika is distracted from her admiration of her sleeping son by the worried sound of a mare's call. It is one that she had expected to hear soon, and a smile crosses her face at the realization that her son was soon to have a new sibling. Shifting away from the stretched out figure of her young son, Sid moved to the top of the dune and called out for Merwerit, beckoning her to the oasis. She had made sure that the young mare knew where it was prior to this point, but she knew well enough now that labor had a way of distorting reality and making it hard to decipher things that were easy to see when rational.

"Come," she offers with her typical no-nonsense tone, and gestures down by the water, where a bed of rushes have already been laid. It was not terrible to give birth on the sand, but she had realized later, as she cleaned her son, that sand had a tendency to stick to wet newborns moreso here than at home, and it was damned unpleasant to clean off.

"Is time, yes?" She asks, but it is more to reassure the mare than it is to ascertain he reason for Merwerit's worried call. The two of them were friendly, but not exceedingly close, so apart from labor, there was little reason for Mer to call for her. Her sharp gaze traces the figurine of the pale mare, not noticing any obvious hallmarks of birth. Her hind legs seemed dry, and it did not appear that the girl's instincts had forced her to the ground at all yet. It was early then, and not yet time to panic.

Geçersiz, stirred by his mother's movement and voice, woke from where he lay sprawled on the ground and nickered quietly. Sid's gaze turned to him, and warmed at the wide-eyed expression he wore. The colt did not say anything, but stared back and forth between them until the palomino mare suppressed a grin and gave him a task. "Yavrum, fetch her some bitter aloe." Turning back to the pale mare, Sid's voice was calm and she gestured again to the rushes. "Rest. Aloe will help pain."