whatever you do; mae Posted on January 20, 2023 at 03:52:24 AM by rafe
make certain your hands are clean ; He follows Estefania into the ocean, unable to talk the heavily-pregnant mare into simply staying put. For some reason, she decides now is the time she must hunt for her sister, even though she is due to foal any day now.
They make it to the Crossing isle, and he follows her all the way to the Falls before she collapses. His ears pin back in annoyance, and he steps away. There is little he can do to help her labor, so instead Rafe steps back. He circles a perimeter around where her fell to her knees, checking for any threats that may have been lured in by the scent of blood or a new foal.
Nothing sticks out at him, though, and so Rafe keeps his distance, alert for any sign of another equine intruding on the small area that he’s held down. He can hear strained cries and labored breathing from the clearing Estefania is in, going on for long minutes. He tends to avoid this part, knowing well he is helpless to ease any pain and that hovering does nothing but catch him the sharp end of an angry mares hoof.
When he finally circles back, there is a frail little red and white filly in the clearing, and no sign of Estefania. He hisses out a curse, then glances frantically around. The girl is struggling to her feet, long spindly legs shaking under her as she rises. She lets out a plaintive little wail and walks to him, pressing up against Rafe’s legs. He curses again, but runs his muzzle gently over the wet-matted hair of her forelock. “Hush,” he soothes the child, gaze intent on the trees around them.
With his nose lifted to the wind, he can catch the faintest scent of blood and the milky scent of a new foal. She went this way, perhaps? Rafe slowly herds the child along, and they do not find Estefania. Instead, he stops in his tracks and sucks in a sharp, surprised exhale.
“Mae?” he asks, shocked to see her before him. “I didn’t find you in the Bay,” he murmurs, taking a half-step forward. “I was certain Fell had killed you,” he adds, opening his mouth to speak again when the filly lets out a sob.
He nuzzles her again, murmuring soothing nonsense. She must be hungry, so cold and terrified from being abandoned moments after her birth, and her mother still nowhere in sight. He sighs and glances around, distracted from his reunion with Mae by the rapidly-growing threat to his newest daughter’s well being. “You didn’t see a dun mare fresh from giving birth run off, did you? I have no idea where her mother went, and she won’t last much longer.”
rafe | 15.2 hh bay overo brindle mutt | king in the badlands