The little filly curls into her side, tugging at her mane and Eirlys feels her heart swell. She can’t even give a moment of thought to the stallion (who’s daughter she has clearly coopted), because she’s so focused on gliding her nose gently over the little girl, checking for any serious injuries. Beyond being soaked and exhausted, she seems fine. Nothing like what Eirlys had found with Taurus all those years ago – this daughter, this one survived.
Mostly, Eirlys wants to ignore the stallion – she’s not been one for talking. And he respects it, which is the most shocking part. While he stays close to lend the filly warmth, he doesn’t press into Eirlys’ space or demand her attention. It’s not what she expects, not after Taurus and then Vidarr both betraying her. One through losing their child and the other through abandoning her; so different, but in the end both leaving her alone. But she wants to make sure the filly is okay, and considering her father is the one who has every right to decide if Eirlys can stay with them, she blinks her cloudy blue eyes and forces herself to focus.
Even listening to him, she does not move away from the filly - she lets her tuck her little red form up against Eirlys’ own wet side, and tries to comprehend what he’s saying. Curses? “I know about being cursed,” she tells him quietly, thinking of her own loss, her own past.
He mentions another daughter and Eirlys glances around them, terrified. There had been only one child, right? In her haste to save this one, did she abandon a second to a fate too terrifying to comprehend? “Daughters?” she asks, emphasis placed on the plural in an unspoken question. Better not to speak plainly where the little one can hear. Eirlys glances pointed back behind them, and then turns her gaze to the stallion.