Falls

In truth, Gyn never expected to see the red sooty stallion again. There had been occasions, especially when she had been heavily swollen with child and alone in the world, that she had looked up at the red sunset and wondered where it was that he had drifted off too. Their coupling had been one of lust and carnal need but even then, somewhere beneath the buried hormones of pregnancy, the moon dappled mare wondered if there might have been more. She wondered if he thought of her. However, he never returned and Gynievvere never lingered either.

Throughout her pregnancy, she drifted here and there along the main island, occasionally wading through the shallow waters that hedged the shores of the ruins to see what the receding waves left on the rocks in their wake. The time alone found her lost in her own mind, but never once did she allow herself to wallow in regret or anger. It merely was what it was. To be perfectly honest, there was a time or two since Ayleen’s birth that the pale woman thought of the stallion that had blessed her with the precious bundle that she cuddled close. There were occasions when she saw glimpses of Baldur in her daughter. The gleam of his gentle gaze in her pale eyes, a whisper of red tint to the dark fluff of her growing mane, even the manner of her walk sometimes seemed to mirror the sire who helped to create her, but the thoughts were fleeting and far between. Gynievvere found that most of her days since were spent sharing their world with the grullo splashed filly.

Yet in this moment, when Baldur materialized from the surrounding woodlands and bright greenery, Gyn is momentarily stunned. Was this the work of woodland fairies attempting to play a prank? ”Baldur?!?” she speaks, his name falling smoothly from her tongue as he closes the space between them. Forgetting of the excitement of the churning waters, Gynievvere settled her attention completely on the russet stallion of soot hues. Once more the memories of their joining rise to the forefront of her mind and despite herself, Gyn feels her dark cheeks growing hot. A soft snort escapes her nostrils as she gives her finely dished head a shake, trying to force the sweat driven memories from her mind as he approaches. Confusion lights her gaze as his attention drifts away from her and for a mere moment, the moon dappled mare almost forgot about the small child beside her. Almost.

Nervousness and curiosity presses the small white splashed filly against her shoulder, her lean muscles tense beneath the silken touch of her baby fur. Fluted ears swivel backwards as Gynievvere takes a step backwards to give Baldur the opportunity to inspect the girl without feeling the suffocating closeness of her presence. The stammering question on her tongue brings a sly smile across her own ashen lips. ”My, my…” she teases, ”I do not remember you being quite so tongue tied the last time we met.” the words flow like silk from her tongue. Proudly her slender neck arches, sending alabaster tresses cascading in heavy ringlets along the curve of her silver neck. Tentatively she reaches down to touch press the warmth of her whiskered muzzle against Ayleen’s smoke colored rump. ”This is Ayleen.” she begins, warmth flooding her heart anew. Dark eyes soften as the lithe mare gazes tenderly at her daughter before once more settling on Baldur, affirmation clear in the lyrical sound of her voice. ”Meet your father.”

’Meet your father.’ The words sound light on mother’s tongue but the small filly feels the weight like a heavy load. She did not know much of him, truthfully nothing at all in reality. The only thing that mother had ever told her was that he was handsome and kind with gentle eyes. Looking at the gruff figure before her, Ayleen found it hard to imagine anything otherwise.He smiled down at her, his pale muzzle outstretched towards her own in open invitation. The warmth of mother’s touch upon her back encourages her. The sweet scent of her breath evaporates what unease lingered at the sight of the tall new stranger. ”F...Father?” she asks, her own bubbling tones softened into a meek whisper.

Tentatively she takes a step forward and waits but nothing happens. The great sooty red stallion does not leap out at her with frothing fangs or red eyes. He does not meet her with ears pinned or yellowing teeth bared as she and mother had observed many stallions doing to lone mares and foals in the common grazing grounds. Instead, his eyes remain gentle and soft, a warm and inviting smile planted firmly on his whiskered lips. Another step forward and she is within reach, stretching her slender neck out to allow her pink muzzle to hover near his own. Deeply she inhales his scent, savoring the warmth and musky familiarity that lingers there. He smells like pine and cedar, pungent and fresh all in the same moment. Excitedly her fluffy tail wags behind her as she bumps her muzzle against his excitedly. ”Where have you been? Have you been looking for us? Momma says its smart to travel a lot. We have been to the meadow and the mountain and the field and oh the pretty glen will all the wildflowers in it!” she bubbles on, any sense of reservation evaporating. Small ears perk forward excitedly, ”Have you been there yet?”

Gynievvere smiles at the bright, fearlessness of the little filly. A warm chuckle rumbles in her lungs as the gray mare takes a step forward, ”Ayleen darling,” she chided playfully, ”give him a moment to breathe.” she finishes with a laugh.

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