Meadow

The little girl is cold until she scootches closer to her mother, tucking under her until at last the large mass of comfort lunges upwards and she tries immediately to follow.

The toddles, teeters, her bright pale gold eyes shining with vigor her mother seems to lack in all things save for her lunge to her feet.

She tries once, the second time nearly toppling her into the visiting savior, but by the third heave-ho-- well, success looks a little like bambi trying to stand on ice, but she’s up. Up and looking about her at the two comforting beasts making her feel safe.

She makes a little bleating whinny and then toddles herself towards her mother, tucking a tender white nose between her mother’s legs from the gap of the tail from her haunches.

Her first meal is loud, but thorough and filling. Even when her mother teeters herself, almost like the filly in balance, she does not unlatch.