Although Twinge is not the first mare to grow with his child, nor was it the first one she had carried of his; Bacardi somehow felt more sentimental with this one, being born here where he had been born. The sharper attitude from Twinge did nothing to deter his own excitement and happiness in the last uncomfortable days she carried the foal to term. So when she wanders off, no doubt in search of peace to give birth, Bacardi trails after her. He does not impose, of course, and he also keeps an attentive ear towards where he had last seen Grizel. She was due soon, and it would be her first. He worried that it would be hard on her, with the weakness she carried in her chest, and often wondered if he had made a mistake in giving her a foal.


Shaking his head, Bacardi tried to push those worries away for now. Although he could not see Twinge, the scent of birth filled his nose and his heart leapt with excitement. The stallion wanted nothing more than to go running over and to greet his newest child with warn nickers and nuzzles. Again, he reminded himself that he couldn’t impose. This was a delicate time between mother and child to bond. But even with that knowledge, it didn’t cure Bacardi’s impatience.


When the painted stallion couldn’t stand it any longer, he finally pushed his way through what greenery still stood between him and his family. He gave a low nicker in greeting, ears forward and eyes bright to see both standing and the foal already nursing. Burn; he had heard her call the child. Fitting with the name Twinge had given her first child. Although he didn’t say it out loud, Bacardi was sure that the happiness that felt like it would explode his heart at any second was clearly written on his dark face.

mutt. bay tobiano. fourteen three hands. of the forest.

"...speech"