Sun Mote Copse Basket

With the pups warm and content against her side, and her mate by hers, Niamh felt comfortable at last- or, at least, as comfortable as one could feel so soon after giving birth. The little blonde girl yawned and snuggled against her, and Niamh smiled fondly at the little beauty. Part of her ego was inflated in knowing she'd had a baby girl that looked just like her- she'd hoped that she'd have a little mini-me. 

Colt joked about the Blackthorn trait of first names and nicknames and she chuckled. She might have commented, but he continued, and brought up a name that had probably had the most potential, out of all the ones that fell within the equine naming scheme. She looked down at the dark-furred little boy at her side and chuckled. "I like that too. I really like the name Nag. I mean, Bronco," She teased lightly, and ran her tongue over the dark dorsal stripe the boy had, which made him wiggle slightly, worming his way deeper into her belly fur. "Bronco Blackthorn has a nice sound to it," She said.