Standing there, Syrah listened to the stallion with her ears perked forward. Her soft colored body wished for its own little child to care for and love, but she physically couldn't handle it right now as he stared. With rips showing, a weak top line, and a body that was running on fumes, Syrah was as useless as a rock pet when it came to helping a child flourish. It would change, she would make sure of that before the fall came.

Raising her head to meet Bacardi’s eyes, the mare gave him a faint smile before reaching out to softly brush her whiskers against his own if he'd allow it. “I… I would like that.” She murmured, answering the part of being able to have a foal next year. She had been going through a lot mentally and with this little push maybe, just maybe, she would be strong enough to have her own later on. “Do you think the black stallion Voyager could use a baby sitter?” Her head tilted then, the question soft. She'd offer to help with Bacardi’s own foal in the coming season, but she knew that down in that sub-heard, that two horses alone would struggle to take care of themselves and a foal.