Meadow

Romulus was not surprised to see the exhausted mare pull herself weakly in front of her infant, hiding all but a pair of fluffy (albeit damp) red ears from the stallion’s view. He did not blame her in the slightest, and was actually rather astonished when her posture relaxed as quickly as it did. By no means did she trust him — nor should she — but she appeared to be giving him a chance, something he had not expected.

I’m not supposed to be here, she said, her voice tinged with fear. He will come looking. Romulus nodded. It was rather obvious, now that he thought about it; what mare would willingly give birth in the Meadow, or anywhere on the Crossing for that matter? He didn’t say anything, only looked on with what he thought was a neutral expression (in reality, his face had unintentionally softened with sympathy).

For whatever reason, the tears that came next were the biggest shock to Romulus. He uttered a rather dumbfounded, pathetic oh as the silver mare turned to her wobbling child to help him to his feet. He saw the droplets glitter on her cheeks in the setting sun, but could find nothing to say, and so stayed silent. Through his awkwardness and overall feeling of uselessness, however, Romulus did enjoy watching the foal collect his spindly little limbs beneath himself and stand. A very uncharacteristic blush crept across the stallion’s splashed face — he had been lucky to see his own son’s first steps, and now he almost felt as though he were intruding on this moment between the stranger and her colt.

Anger abruptly overwhelmed the embarrassment he had briefly felt for witnessing the child’s stumbling first steps. Anger at the circumstances, and at whatever cruel bastard had driven the dark mare to such extremes during the most dangerous and vulnerable time of her life. Her voice was desperate as she gave Romulus their names, and pleaded with him not to send her away. He struggled to reign in the sudden fury, only fueled by the helpless tone of the strange mare, Viveka. Not trusting himself to speak, he only nodded, and turned to lead mother and child toward the safety and warmth of Dhaniyā and Aaslan.

She walked slowly, so Romulus kept pace with her, giving her space to support her newborn and to not feel crowded by him. The area he had been sheltering in was not far, and as the grass parted at the edge of the little clearing, he turned back to Viveka. “I’m Romulus,” he said. “I’ve been living here while I look for a more permanent home. I won’t send you anywhere you don’t want to go, and you can stay as long as you like.”