Sleepy Fox Hollow Mint

Fancy groaned, and her nostrils flared as she settled down against the ground at last, after pacing for the better part of the morning and early afternoon. Her breath caught in her throat, and the sorrel stretched out her neck for a moment against the ground before she grunted, and began the effort of bringing her foal into the world. 

While she'd once prayed for a filly, all she prayed for now was for the damn foal to make a swift and peaceful exit, though she knew such prayers would never be answered. She'd birthed three foals, she could do it again- hell, she'd even had a year off from being a mother- an entire year to heal up and be torn open once again with the birth of the fourth. 

"Wolf's teeth!" She swore as she pushed, and with that effort the foal began to emerge. She could tell by the feel that the head would be soon- and the shoulders next. She knew @Selenia would be within earshot- she had not strayed far from her friend's side, not when the herd was so small- but nevertheless she felt no shame as she uttered a string of curses passed down from one generation to the next as the foal's chest emerged, followed swiftly by the rest of its body. 

She breathed, and now she prayed. In her heart, she dreaded succumbing to Sycha's curse, that she might look upon her own foal and feel nothing. She lifted her head, mane hanging in tangles against her sweaty neck, as she peered over her still-round belly to see a foal- dark and wet still, but even through its filmy caul she could tell that it was sorrel; copper as a newly minted penny. 

She whickered, softly, and curled her legs beneath her, careful not to knock the young one who took only a moment to be still before beginning to move. She cleared away the foal's head first, breathing puffs of air over the generous chrome that spilled down the forehead all the way to the nostrils, before she removed the rest- 

and noted as she severed the umbilical at the foal's belly that she had, at last, given birth to a daughter. 

"Go back to the hellhounds for another year, Sycha," She uttered under her breath as she marveled at her newest creation, one she loved already more than life itself. Her filly began to prop herself up on shaky elbows, pressing her soft hooves into the earth where she teetered like a ballerina. She was keen to reach her feet before her coat even had the chance to dry- a sign of excellent health. Fancy gave her daughter a nudge, and raised her voice, just as the filly began to rock and lunge, toppling over in her first wobbly attempts at rising to her feet. C'mon, up you get, She urged, before she raised her voice. Selenia, come see! We got a live one!

fancy's time had come. selenia stayed as close as the lead mare wished. the swearing did not bother her, nor did the grunting and pushing. what bothered her was that it seems they were alone again. where had he gone?

but she wouldn't think about that now.

the foal began to emerge, and selenia whickered lowly in encouragement, her dark eyes searching for any danger or predators that might be drawn by the smell of blood.

it was odd and worrisome to see fancy down on the ground. selenia knew it was the natural way of things, but their unguarded status set her more on edge.

still she kept up her soft velvety sounds, buckskin ears swinging forward as the birth ended.

from a small distance she saw that fancy had thrown a miniature of herself, and when the lead mare called her close to look over the baby, selenia confirmed that for herself.

"hello, baby," she murmured, brushing the little filly's flank with reassurance and steadying. her next reach was for fancy, mobile lips and concerned eyes checking over her friend for any sign she was weak or might continue to bleed.

"she's so strong, fancy. just like you." her eyes filled with happy tears, and inside her own body, maplesmoke's second foal kicked as if to say they soon would join.

In a herd of many, she would not have called her herdmate over; in their state, though, having another mare this close was her best bet for the survival of her daughter. Fancy whickered softly as the little one shakily managed to lift her bottom a few inches off the ground before teetering over and rolling over to her other side with a quiet, surprised squeal. Fancy chuckled quietly, and gave her daughter's curly mane a little tweak for encouragement. 

She is, She responded proudly, watching as the filly gave her next attempt a bit too much juice from her hind legs, and toppled forward, over one shoulder, kicking her heels in the air. That's it, warm 'em up and then use those big ol' legs to get your bum off the ground! She was in her glee, watching as time and time again the filly boosted herself up, managing to snatch a second or two longer each time before she finally stood, four legs shaking and splayed, but ready to take a step forward. 

She moved forward so her daughter might have a leg to lean on, should she lose her balance. She got more chrome than me, though! She snorted, sweeping her tongue over the bold, wide blaze that ran up the filly's face. The nerve of you, you flashy little thing! She scolded playfully as her daughter began to thump her muzzle along her ribs, toward her udder. The filly began to suckle noisily, and Fancy finally heaved a sigh of relief. 

Well, the herd's a bit bigger now, She said. What've you got, another week or so left? She asked.

watching fancy encourage her new daughter warmed selenia's heart quite a great deal. she wished her sisters were able to have been present for this, and for her own. the buckskin mare glanced up again, around, and then back at the filly.

it took her a moment to understand what chrome meant, but she saw it now: a proud, wide streak of white up the baby's nose. "it's like new snow! oh, and look at her little socks too," selenia laughed softly.

she was indeed very strong, and a hungry nurser from the audible gulping which emanated from beneath fancy's round belly. "yes. maybe two. but they're so restless, i can't see that they'll stay in much longer."

again, some worry. but not any that selenia would allow to touch this happy moment. "what will you name her?"

Fancy whickered proudly. Just like our Breedmistress, She stated, in a matter-of-fact way. One sock for each cardinal point. It means she'll be fast on her feet- She said, cut off for a moment as the filly gave her bag a couple muzzle-punches to encourage milk flow. 'Course I've heard all sorts of mare's tales about what their socks mean, depending on which feet they're on, but...Four white socks is generally seen as being a good thing though- She winced, and flicked her tail as her hungry daughter gave her another jab. She rolled her eyes comically toward Selenia. 

She glanced down toward her herdmate's flank, where her belly bulged the most, and smiled. Having two foals running around would certainly brighten their days. 

Not sure yet, She said, glancing to the filly at her side, smiling as the little one's curly tail wriggled. I've got a Trusty, an Antic, and a Rufous, She said, listing her previous children. She smirked. I could still just go with Schmancy, She joked with a shrug.

four white socks, courtesy of the Breedmistress. selenia listened attentively as she always did when fancy passed down the histories to which the buckskin mare should have been privy all her life. time spent roaming with other ruminants, half-raised by them as well, had disconnected the twofeather. it was through fancy that she had begun to learn the important lore of her own species.

a whickering smile from her then, a little amused snort. 

"trusty. antic. rufous. schmancy. it does have a ring to it," selenia chuckled. "maybe they'll both need to show us their names."

cameo!

colosseum stood guard—shoulders broad, hooves planted firm as stone at the edge of the glade. the moonlight, waning but proud, silvered the curve of his muscled haunches as he pivoted his ears forward, backward, sweeping the air for the smallest shift of sound. nothing would touch them tonight.

his breath steamed, slow and warm. he could smell the newness of life from here—milk, blood, and the soft, sweet scent of a foal barely dry. fancy had done it. strong as ever. his lead mare.

the roan stallion let out a low rumble, tail flicking once behind him. to the north, silence. to the east, a fox's tread over brush. no danger. he snorted and glanced back over his shoulder.

he caught a glimpse: fancy curled around the filly, selenia watching close with that glint in her eyes, laughter dancing between them like dandelion fluff on a spring breeze. colosseum’s gaze softened. he may not speak much, but this—this was why he stood where he did. why he bore every scar, every storm.

She flared her nostrils, humoured by Selenia's response. A moment later, the harsh blow of air nearby split the silence. In response, Fancy snorted, though the tone of her breath was low, fluttering like a butterfly's wings. The space he had given the mares in the latest part of their pregnancy had kept him safe from their ire- but it made perfect sense for him to begin integrating himself once more, now that a foal was on the ground.

She murmured so only Selenia could hear. Right on cue, She said, with a wink. She tilted her head back, and closed her eyes as her foal drank. Ughhhh please Equus- give me more than a week this time, let my ladybits heal a bit first, She chuckled, before she nosed her companion, and looked back to her redheaded daughter as she finished drinking and staggered forward. Pretty little thing, She breathed gratefully, bursting with pride.

for some reason, it made selenia blush to realize what fancy meant. nature had a way of dealing with a mare that did not seem altogether fair. "you've made a beautiful girl," she murmured, already thinking of the filly as her very own niece.

silverbirch had been sired by stormcloud. he had died before seeing her born. maplesmoke was father to the new baby horse and the one to be born, but he was not here to see either.

colosseum, unless he were challenged by another, would bring about the next pair of conceptions.

would he see them born?

she did not mean to feel so pensive; selenia returned to the warm scene. "what about...socks?" too plain? it didn't quite showcase a horse, she supposed.