It is hard for him to withstand his need for Sayyida, to be with her when he hears her on the desert wind… but now, he cannot move. For the sake of the little girl that makes his heart glow - he cannot imagine reaching the Afterlife, so heavy was his heart with the need to protect her every cell, her every heartbeat. Woe be to the boy who would try to take her from him.

And then he bursts out into motion from the sheer coiled excitement and his daughter cannot abide the affront to her goals. She is already mighty in her own desires and he knows that she bears the will of both her parents - will enough to forge whatever path her desires demanded. For one that was in Mira, this would have broken his heart - knowing he would someday have to dampen that with respect owed to others. Here? Here she would be freed of such things if she willed. Here, where his own Mira was wed to a Sheikh and not a King, she would be offered the world without needing to sacrifice all she was. She could choose the fate of a Mira or choose the fate of a beloved Daughter with her own hands gripping the reins.

His red face turns at last to his First Wife, his own Queen. Her body wastes no time in responding to his nearness, her soul calling to his and his to hers. He does not mind that his inspection is interrupted by gummy nibbles,nickering deep in his chest in reply to her little exploration before he bursts his concerns all over the graying bay sabino mare who’d become the center of his universe.

She reassures him wearily and it makes him ache, yearning for something to do, to fix, to soothe her. Her sheepish request has him nodding eagerly when she turns away the notion of their daughter meeting her uncles. He was a covetous creature at heart, after all. "I would give you all the rest you could bear, my love, if our gem was not going to need you." He wishes for half a moment that he was given the same life-giving abilities as his Wife, to take the burden from her even for a little while.

But then he asks the question of the child’s name and Sayyida shakes her head. His eyes widen, flushing beneath the already pink hide. "I have already had so many of her firsts… I thought you might like this one for yourself."

He looks down at the precious little life that barely makes it to his breast, stunned into silence to be given such a miraculous gift. It was not often that a Mira gave the right of names to the father. Such a thing was usually reserved as a grand gesture - something of a miracle in this moment of feeling he had put her through such pain. "One day you will earn many names and titles, but your ⲗⲉⲛ, my beloved child, first of my Beautiful One, is Aminah. It is borrowed of a beloved Aunt. Love it and cherish it as we will love and cherish you." His voice is so warm, so full of every drop of feeling in his soul that he chokes on a small sob as he presses his muzzle down the fuzzy, fluffy line of her crest.

"Aminah, Daughter of Sayyida, Second of Antares, Blessed of Allah, Gift of Amunet. I cannot wait to watch the spirit of your patron god or goddess fan the flame of that spirit within you." Then with feeling, "Such a gift, my Mira-- I have no words to express even a drop of what I feel. Take advantage and bid me bring you any gift, perform any trial, do any service… or, if you cannot think of one… let me take you to your rest in your oasis and I shall tend her until our Aminah must nurse."