Morgana contentedly grazed, the mud cake disappearing steadily. Her tail swished quietly against her flanks, her one good ear constantly monitoring her sleeping son. She knew the day was fast approaching when he would start to explore beyond her reach, but until then, she would fiercely guard him and ensure his safety. As if summoned by her protective thoughts, the very source of her anxiety materialized before her.

"He's been perfectly fine," she snapped, her voice laced with barely suppressed fury, showing the tovero stallion no semblance of patience.

From the undergrowth, Temperance burst forth, hooves kicking up mud as she charged towards Talon. An excited squeal escaped her as she playfully roared at him, then begged him to join her in a game. Talon scrambled to his feet, but his gaze shifted from Temperance to his father. "Father!" he exclaimed, momentarily forgetting Temperance's invitation to play.

“I want to go play in the mud," Talon squeaked, following Temperance's lead. "I have been so good for Mom!" He stamped his foot, a boastful claim on his obedience, a little exaggerated, perhaps.

Morgana closed the distance, positioning herself near the children. She struggled to mask her deep distrust of Tribulation. "Why don't we all go to the new mud puddle?" she suggested, desperate to keep the children within her sight. Nothing the stallion had ever done inspired trust; only vigilance.