She can see the fire in their little creation, his drive to succeed already far surpassing both of them. He shunned her careful guidance and nursed as though he had no fear in the world. Already such a creciendo.grownup. He was dark in color, like his mama, but a raging inferno already lurked beneath the skin of her handsome son, and pride coursed through her body in recognition of it. None would stand before her mijo and a pleased chuckle rumbles through her body as she brushes across his flippant little hocks.

He may be the death of her in the process, but someday her beautiful son would rule the world.

Fiero steps close while their son is occupied, and she is glad to lean into his touch. As much as she is frustrated that the idiota had failed to listen to her instruction, she is grateful for him now. Her body feels far too full of emotion for only her to handle and she buries her face against the familiar golden hue of his body with a sigh of relief. "I am in no rush to do it again, lover boy." She murmurs against his skin as his praise falls quiet. Twisting her head she moves so that she can look upon their son once more, even as she rests in the comfort of her beloved. "But he is already perfecto."perfect."

The lean colt finally turns at her prodding, only to shove at his father to her delight. She knows that she should not laugh, but a chuckle rolls up from her chest at his boldness. He hardly has any control of his limbs, let alone of words, and yet he is already adamant about what is his.

"Mijo,""Son," she cautions with a smile that refuses to be tamped down and mirth dancing in her voice. It is good to laugh. It helps to distract her from the way the rest of her protests stringently at the movement her laugh causes and she breathes out a pained little wheeze as she falls still again.

It is enough time for Fiero to fall head over heels for their child as well, and she can see it in the way that he looks upon him. Fondly she turns to run her muzzle down his face, brushing aside the milky strands of his whiskers to place a gentle caress against his cheek. There is a part of her that wants to keep him this way; enamored with her in the same way that she was with him, her own private joy, but she cannot. Their baby belongs to both of them, and even though her instincts tell her that Fiero is a danger to the wobbly newborn, she shoves them to the side.

Their baby would have all of the potential that Fiero kept locked inside of himself, with her fiery confidence. Nothing would hold him back, much less his parents.

"Fuego," she says after a moment, the word falling from her lips unbidden but fitting perfectly. He was her little piece of Fiero, her little flame. Again she encourages the child toward Fiero, although it is almost selfish this time. The high of birth was beginning to wane, and the physical effects of the process were making her sleepy. She shifts to lean against the golden frame of her lover, again burying her face in his mane for a moment. The time would come when he would leave her again, to go back to his imprisonment among the Peak, but she cannot bear the thought just now. She needed him here, with her.

"Stay, with us tonight?" She murmurs the words against his skin, their tone resonating with her need despite the unusual questioning lilt. She is tired, and feels weak and unbeautiful. All she wants is to curl up with those that she loves while her body recovers from the ordeal of birth.

MARE | PASO FINO | BLACK | 14.3 HANDS | HOMELESS | LOVEINSPIRED