Meadow

She swims ashore, not too long since the talk that Cain and herself had about the herd being in need of some new and fresh faces. It makes it easier with her intentions clear to the other mares, her son clearly off interested in the home that was so much more suited to their build than the desert. The climate that her son had been bred for was mountainy and cool - and his black color only seemed to give him the more struggle as he started to grow.

Her original goal had been the Commons, but first and foremost she was a mother and the sight of a young foal on the sand as the sea spits him out makes her heart explode in her chest. He was certainly no newborn - but it reminded her of Vulcan’s size when he was that young. (Not Enoch, as he was unusually large already for his age).

Before she could charge in, panicked by his exhausted collapse and the hesitation to rise, a plum and floral colored mare seems to notice. Was that his mother? It is a split second consideration until she sees the hesitation in the mare to charge to the child on the sand. She springs into action instantly upon realizing this other mare is not the mother and eats up the earth to get to their side as the young female expresses her concern. "The sea is a cruel beast," she says in earnest, stopping with as little kicked up sand as she could with her size. "He is too young to be swimming that alone! I wonder where his mother is!" She leans down and noses the boy, attempting to extend his neck and have his head balance on his chin. The weanling colt was breathing but she nickers a soothing sound without the same self-concern as shown by the younger darling of a concerned passerby.

"Little one, I am Berit. Please let us know if you are well - you are worrying me."