Faolain fought to remain still and calm, but it was difficult. She was terrified, and her own fear mixed messily with Rivaini’s as the red mare labored and panted. She could hardly tell where Riv’s fright ended and hers began; similarly, she had pressed so close to her love’s side that she could not even tell where the line was that joined their skin. Faolain’s eyes followed the gripping muscles of Rivaini’s abdomen, and thought she might just be able to feel the contractions, too - if she lost herself too much in this connection. But she needed to stay grounded, for Rivaini’s sake, so Faolain breathed deeply and reminded herself that she could not share the silver bay’s pain right now. As she oriented herself, she calmed, but she was still afraid - especially when Rivaini tried to talk, her voice weak against the laboring breaths.

”Shh,” she said gently. ”Of course, I’m here. I love you.”

It felt like hours before the foal finally came, but Faolain knew that it was only a few moments that had stretched into eternity. As Rivaini went to rise, Faolain scooted away, gathering spindly legs beneath her and standing as well. Dark eyes peered around Rivaini’s strong, sweat-darkened form at the bundle of legs on the ground, and her mouth opened just a little in awe.

When Rivaini beckoned, Faolain came forward at once. Her delicate muzzle lowered and explored the colt tentatively, hardly even touching the damp fur, as though she feared he might bite her. As Rivaini cleaned him, Faolain joined, grooming so gently the act might have been useless. She was almost fearful in her motions, and when the colt actually did bite his mother, Faolain snorted in alarm before bursting into laughter. Her fear seemed to evaporate - she had not, after all, been truly afraid of the colt himself, but of hurting such a small and delicate creature. The colt seemed to harbor none of these fears for himself, as evidenced by his demanding nip, and Faolain was comforted by this as well as amused.

”Feisty little man,” she chuckled, lipping at one dark chestnut ear. She lifted her head once again to press her face into Rivaini’s shoulder. Despite the complicated circumstances of this child, and Faolain’s lingering feelings of apprehension toward Rougaru, her joy in this moment was immeasurable. ”I’m proud of you,” she said. There was truly so much more she wanted to say, but words escaped her, so she left it at that. It seemed the most important of all of the evasive thoughts she had.

faolain

mare // 6 // EE aa // 14hh