She liked it here, among the snow and the ice. Loved the scent of pine in her nostrils and the sharpness in the air. She liked the herd too, although she knew so few of them by more than just name. Had even begun to form a friendship with both little Rethe and Fearne.

And she liked Fell, too. Perhaps more than all the rest combined.

She wasn't certain what it was about him that kept her so fascinated, but she often found reasons to meander through the places she knew he frequented most. To watch him as he played with his children or scuffled with the strange overo stallion from across the seas. She studied his confident stride as he patroled their borders, and the glint of sunlight over his raven-black coat when he grazed. She tried not to take up too much of his attention, not wanting to appear needy or greedy, but sometimes she could not help herself, and she rarely - if ever - turned him away. He was, by far, the most interesting part of Tinuvel.

Or well, had been.

Now he shared that place with the leggy bundle that insisted on resting just below her diaphragm, shortening her breath and leaving her winded even when standing still. Such high carriage and the fact that they were her first meant that she hadn't really appeared truly pregnant until late winter, and then it was as if her body had made up for lost time. For the last few weeks she had felt as wide as she was tall, and while not normally the slightest bit self-conscious, she no longer felt quite like herself.

The flurry of hoofbeats was a welcome distraction and her warm gaze flicked up to where the magnificent black stallion approached, a grin spreading quickly across her lips. She lifted into a bouncy step, tail held aloft, and bowed her neck playfully. As he pulled away from the exchange of breath she squealed and tossed her head, striking out toward him in a harmless gesture that was well clear of his actual body. Her tail struck either side of her wide barrel with a snap, feigning annoyance, but she didn't hold onto the false emotion long. Something inside of her had relaxed the moment she'd seen him again, and she wanted nothing more than to set aside her own restless thoughts and simply enjoy his company.

"You've been busy," she remarked, stretching forward to attempt to brush her muzzle across his shoulder, only to bare her teeth at the last second to try to nip instead. Whether or not she was successful didn't matter - Corvette used it as an excuse to whirl away from him again, lifting her hips as if to kick only to back into him instead, craving the steady warmth of his touch. She could have probably just walked alongside him to cuddle, of course, but such was not their style. There was no game in that, no play.

"Think you could spare a moment to tell our firstborn to get their hooves out of my stomach?" It was a rhetorical question, given that she knew he could not speak, but she liked talking to him, even if he couldn't talk back. Especially when she could talk about their child.

She knew this was not Fell's first child, and that she, being nearly a decade old, did not fit the typical profile of a first-time mother, but that didn't stop her from being filled with nerves and anxiety. She wanted to do a good job with this baby, to raise them with all the good she remembered, and as little bad as possible. With Fell as it's father, she felt as though this baby already had a leg up on her. He didn't seem to be lost in grandiose ideas or hellbent on vengeance. He was here. Present. Interactive. Real. Perhaps together they had a real chance of not screwing this up.