Leaving him was hard. In so many ways, Aleksi had become a focal point for all the care and adoration that she wished that she could lavish on Bjorn, especially as of late as Aoife grew more and more independent. As she grew stronger, she grew less kind, much to Siobhan's dismay. The girl was willful and proud and much more violent than even Zvaid had been as a young colt, and it often had taken much of Siobhan's energy to try and gently coax the filly back into behaving. So far, Aleksi was the polar opposite. He was cheerful and kindly, despite his tragic start in life, and she relished in the fresh newborn scent of him, even as her own pregnancy came to a close.

Loving him was a welcome break from watching the adoring way that Bjorn interacted with Tigerlily and her twins.

However, as the first labor pangs stabbed deep within her body, she left her precious children in Tigerlily's capable hands and moved inland, toward the heart of all of Tinuvel. She still did not know the rulers of the Bay, although she had every intention of meeting them to tell them of what had happened once her own child was strong enough for such a journey. Nor did she know the Arch's lead. But she knew that Bjorn and Solomon would keep her safe, as they had the last time that something had happened here.

In truth, she would have given almost anything for Bjorn to be with her now, but asking felt unfair, and so she did not.

Instead, she quietly tiptoed to where the few trees lingered and sequestered herself behind their cover and then carefully, carefully, lowered the heft of her figure to the ground. By now, her body had grown accustomed to the process of birth, and she reassured herself that everything was normal with each new contraction. The loss of the unknown sabino mare was still fresh in her mind, so she busied herself with crooning softly to the child she labored to deliver as a way of distracting herself.

By the time they emerged - a dark red-gold coat accentuated with deep dark points like their eldest sister - sweat coated Siobhan's entire body, and the pain had drawn furrows into her brows. She rolled onto her chest again, and stretched backward, desperate to reassure herself that the child was born alive and well. Nickering softly, she met the tiny muzzle of her newest daughter with a sigh of relief.

The red mare rose wearily to her feet, and turned to coax the infant into standing. The girl reminded her so poignantly of Roisin that her heart clenched at the memory. She had been so deliriously happy to have had another chance at motherhood that the world could have come crashing down around her and she would have smiled through it all.

"A stóirín," she murmured lovingly, running her muzzle along the curly fluff of her mane as the girl managed to clamber upright on the first try, with limbs that were far too stilted to make moving easy. Already the girl seemed leaner and longer than she remembered Roi ever being, and the thought of her littlest daughter growing taller than her full sister brought her a smile that was tinged with sadness. It had been so long since she had last wrapped her eldest daughter in a hug.

"My little Deirdre, look at you go," she murmured encouragingly, gently coaxing her to her side to nurse. Just as the filly latched on, the sound of an approaching figure put her on edge, and she scrambled warily to stand before her disgruntled daughter with ears laced back and white-rimmed eyes. "Who is it?!"