Maybe it was the chaos of their joining that would explain the heavily burdened sides of the dark arab mare; the skin along her belly rippling with urgency and causing the first time mother to wince at the sudden movement. Eness was wider than that of Sayyida from what she was told, far bigger than any of the mares so far that were also pregnant. Maybe the foal was just huge, a son perhaps, given how strongly she could feel every toss and turn of her babe. Was she frightened? Terribly so, but she trusted the words of Sayy, and even the odd practices of the Teke Sidika who’d become an interesting source to seek out for this pregnancy was definitely unusual and her first. They both could help where her husband could not.

Her aching body also sought for her sadiq, but the wildness that was her beloved was still gone; only her memory remained in that of Eness’s mind, the mare holding it close as she wished desperately for the other woman to return to her. Regardless of the ever present loss she still had her husband and the ladies of the dunes eager and willing to help.

The feeling of discomfort was felt all throughout the day, no matter of pacing easing the feeling, an uneasy shifting of the tides so to speak, just before a storm would arrive. The child demanded it’s release just as the sun set and the dunes were bathed in moonlight; a fitting arrival for her child of the moon and stars. The curious men were sent away, as such was custom and required despite herself wishing Atair would be by her side. She parts from him with murmored words of comfort, even as her face contorts with the coming pain. “He is determined,” Eness had taken to calling the foal a boy, something she was adamant about no matter what the others may have said, whispering this to Sayy or Sidika, whoever was pressed against the flesh of her shoulder for support; her eyes were blind to the world around her spare for the startling white shape of the moon above. Her hooves wear a weary path in the sand before finally her legs give and she sets herself down with ease.
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The moon has shifted, moving across the sky as the hours become longer and her skin is slick with sweat, yet nothing has come from her tired muscles as they push to free the struggling life inside. She’s almost given in to the exhaustion when one of the mares makes an excited noise when looking to her shifting legs. Faint light catches onto a pair of protruding hooves finally appearing, but the excitement is short lived as Eness gives another push to reveal the foal was exiting the complete opposite way instead of face first like it was supposed to, and with another ripple of moving muscles the foal is deposited upon the sand. Everything is quiet, eyes on the dark foal that seemed as though it was quite lifeless for the moment.

“What is wro-,” Eness tries to question when spitting out the stick she’d been biting down on but then her eyes close as her body is hit again with the familiar feeling of contractions, which should have eased off with her foal on the ground already yet her body felt as though it was ready to expel even more. A quiet scream from the pain is heard, just as another foal slips from her fidgeting body and at last her body feels satisfied with itself. The red coated form of the foal that had slipped out last plopped out onto it’s sibling, startling the dark shape that had at first seemed to be dead. When it became clear that both foals were very much alive, did the attending mares skip into action, cleaning away at them as their mother fought to catch her own breath and collected herself.

With gentle prodding Eness was able to sit herself up, looking behind her to the two curious shapes of black and red, eyes going wide that she’d been carrying two foals. “Are they even real?,” she whispers in disbelief, yet there is love in her dark eyes when reaching for them both, her own tongue aiding in the need to clean and soothe the squirming tangle of limbs. The red one, bumped into it’s darker counterpart, toothless mouth smacking on the other foals small ears as if it would soothe the hunger both foals were feeling after such a tiring entrance into the world. Seeing this Eness moves to stand herself, just as wobbly as the newborns but instinct makes her move and she can't help but to follow what feels right in this moment.

“Please fetch Atair,” Eness cared not of who went, her eyes and attention were all for not one, but two seemingly healthy twin boy’s that laid at her hooves. Allat shined bright up above, reflecting in the white markings that adorned both foals across their foreheads.