In truth, Siobhan knew that she should stick more closely to Tigerlily now that the mare had given birth. As much as the red mare felt a kinship with Bjorn's newest Queen, she could also feel the ever-growing disconnect between herself and the small nuclear family they represented. The distance was largely her own fault, and Siobhan knew it. Every so often she would catch Bjorn looking at her and feel that familiar flutter of longing and adoration in her heart and she would know that if she just cupped her hands around the embers of their once passionate relationship and blew gently that their love would flare back into life. Even if she had had no small part in smothering those same flames in the first place.

And while the thought of seeking comfort in Bjorn was so tantalizing that she found herself dreaming of it in the absence of Ailill, she knew such a thing would not be fair to Tigerlily. The sweet mare had finally managed to hold her own in Bjorn's turbulent life, and it was not Siobhan's place to upset the balance for the sake of her own fragile heart. So she kept to the outskirts, aiming to allow Bjorn and Tigerlily time to bond with their adorable twins, and ignored the way her heart grieved for the life and livelihood of the Ridge at the sight of children. She stayed alone, even though being alone so late in her pregnancy with the threat of Cullen still hanging over her head like a guillotine was terrifying.

Footsteps nearby had her heart stopping in her throat and she froze like a deer caught on the road, her entire figure trembling with the weight of her fear. But the figure that met her gaze as she crept closer was no Cullen, nor Nyimara, nor Aranck, but an unfamiliar and heavily pregnant mare that was clearly in the throes of labor. She sighed silently and forced her tense muscles to relax as the distant mare lowered herself to the ground, clearly oblivious to her audience.

Siobhan was no voyeur, and took no pleasure at being present at a birth uninvited, but she also well knew the dangers of Tinuvel. She'd spent more than one night awake, listening to the howls of the hungry wolves that prowled through the land, and had more than one nightmare of losing a loved one to their slavering jaws. So while she did not know this mare, nor did she owe her anything, Siobhan still vowed to keep watch over her so that she could enjoy those first few precious moments without fear.

As the moments passed however, she couldn't help but notice that there was no movement coming from where the young mare had disappeared. Quite without meaning too, Siobhan drifted closer with her heart stuck firmly in her throat. Once she was close enough to see beyond the low lying scrub-brush, she was able to discern that the foal - a dark slate color with the faintest freckling over his rump - was alive. His head was up and she could see that he was curiously probing at his mother for some sort of reaction… and as she watched, she realized that he was getting none.

The closer she came, the stronger the metallic tang of fresh blood became, which perhaps explained why the mares eyes were glassy and unfocused. Siobhan could see the faintest rise and fall of her chest, indicating that she was still, somehow alive despite the flood of blood that spilled behind her and agonized between going to mare or child first. They were both clearly in need of care, and it broke her heart to have to choose. Ultimately, Siobhan knew that she was no healer. If Nzingha or Charybdis were here, they might have been able to help the mare, but Siobhan was alone… and she had always been a mother before she was anything else.

Swallowing hard, she stepped forward and lowered her head toward the foal. "A leanbh," she crooned, stretching out to brush her muzzle across his forehead. "It will be alright, lad." She reached further to help him with tearing the last bit of his birth sac as it clung to him, and then made space for the struggling colt to attempt to stand. "Come now, up you go little one."

Beside them, the mare stirred and Siobhan's attention diverted to her immediately. In truth, she had somewhat expected the mare to remain unconscious until the end. It seemed to happen most often in the traumatic births that she had witnessed… and she had already witnessed more than her fair share of traumatic births. Siobhan stepped closer to the prone mare and pressed her muzzle gently against the mare's forehead in the same sort of soothing gesture she had offered to her son.

"I will," she promises. "He will be safe, and loved. I promise." And she meant it. She could see the mare's strength fading, but she realized that she knew nothing about her, and it felt wrong for the boy to go into the world not knowing either of his parents. If she could at least offer him the name of the mother that had perished bringing him life, he would at least have some sort of anchor… and perhaps that would stop him from leaving Siobhan as all of her other adopted children eventually did.

"Aleksi," Siobhan repeated by way of reassuring the sabino mare that she would remember, and then pressed another comforting touch to her cheek with every intention of asking her… but as she pulled away, she could see no more light in the mare's brilliant blue eyes, and knew without a doubt that she was gone. Tears slipped from her eyes for the poor woman, and she swallowed hard as she turned back to the colt, wanting to remove him from the grisly scene before it could imprint on either of them more deeply.

Smiling through her tears at the boy, she murmured to him again, shifting so that she could help him if he had not yet reached his feet. "Come now, Aleksi. Let's get you something to drink, mm?"