Hoshor Plains basalt

her sisters had gone, though she nickered for them anyway when the pains began. hoping @Mallow and @Swallowtail had gone off together, selenia turned her fierce attention to the rapidity of birth.

by turns restless and tired, she rolled upon the snow, coursed around the edge of the herd, and strained against the ground, leaning into fancy with low, pained noises.

@Maplesmoke was allowed close despite the splay of her ears, though eventually it did not matter.

retreating to the tiniest stand of trees along the sideline of the plains, the mare panted and whickered, lying down in the gentle waves of golden grass.

@Silverbirch was born into the melting snow, the vastness of earth and sky, with a hawk wheeling overhead to announce her arrival.

selenia's focus entire was her perfect filly; she filled her senses with that of the little one, completely absorbed as she cleaned the tiny unfurling ears.

Fancy remained close, uttering soft reassurances to the mare as her labour began. It was often the way of their kind to leave the herd and give birth alone; she remained by Selenia’s side until she moved off for privacy. 

Fancy eyed the location that Selenia had chosen- a little strand of trees- and decided to patrol around the area at a calm, quiet walk. 

She remained out of sight, so Selenia might not become restless and move- but kept a wary eye and ear turned to the plains to make sure she had a safe and secure perimeter.

She prayed to her Gods for a safe birth, and a healthy foal.

Hooves pressed together as if in prayer, the filly entered the world, she felt all the familiar pressure melt away after several pulsing squeezes, and drew in a mewling breath through dewy nostrils. Gentle whickering met her ears, which flicked as they were cleaned.

Still laying with her hind limbs sprawled, she placed her soft forehooves on the cool ground, a gentle bend in her knees as she lifted her head. Great, owlish eyes blinked, fanning wispy eyelashes as she sought out the first form she would see- and the first form she would know to love.

She whinnied, a pipe-like sound, trembling as she gazed wide-eyed at her mother.

this was not his business.

he did not care to see her in pain and so he removed himself to the far side of the bison herd; there, the beasts kept an eye on him as much as he kept an eye upon the mares, and they turned a judging eye upon him or grumbled in passing.

the long-neck hides from his women! they were saying. the bulls snorted to one-another while the sows stamped and rounded together, showing a unison that maplesmoke envied.

when finally the foal dropped, the stallion drew close enough to watch it's head lift from the grass.

tears dewed selenia's lashes, blurring the perfect face of her daughter. she looked like a blend of them, of herself and stormcloud. he had been good to her, to all of them. the mare missed him dearly.

she nosed over the little one's forelock and they shared breath again, selenia staying close until those beautiful eyes focused and her own strength returned.

"silverbirch," she decided, closing her own gaze for a moment, thinking of how her mother would have been so very proud to see this filly.

She blinked at the sound of her mother’s voice, the soft puff of sweet grass breath fluttering her eyelashes like butterfly wings. She rocked from one elbow to the other, instincts bidding her to move now that she had freedom from the close comfort of her mother’s womb.

She snorted, clearing her nostrils, and tossed her little head in such a way that made her ears flap. She swivelled them, as if surprised by their very existence. She smacked her lips together, smoothing her tongue over her hard gums. Again, she fidgeted, lurching forward with her neck, finding that there was a great deal of weight to her hind end, as if it was a counterbalance.

In her mind, a clock ticked- and with every movement of the clock’s hand came a movement from the foal.

indeed a clock, and indeed her mother's ears heard it ticking.

she continued to encourage silverbirch as her baby gathered strength, sharing with her the scents of the homeland into which she had been born.

she herself was put through the nipping of the cord, the passing of afterbirth; selenia shakily stood some time after, whickering gently at silverbirch.

Her mother pulled away, and teased a worried whicker from the foal’s lips as she watched the mare stand on her great, long legs. 

She understood almost immediately; her mother’s voice spurred her. She lurched, trembling, only to tumble over in the spattered earth. Again, she tried- first with her forelegs splayed, only to find she did not have the power to pull her hind end up.

She tucked her forelegs beneath her and shifted her strength into her hind legs. She pushed, and her little, wet rump rose. With her nose against the ground, she remained bowed as if in a prayer. Twice she tumbled, but on her next attempt she managed to sneak out first one forehoof and then the other.

Shakily, she stood, gargantuan knees trembling, little tail flicking in circles that threatened to send her tumbling yet again but-

She knew now how to stand.

silverbirch stood, and selenia heaved a sigh of relief. her filly's concentration had not gone unwatched and now it would be rewarded by life.

the mare did not move the scarce feet back to her baby, wanting to see that the newborn horse tottered forward on those long legs.

her eyes were soft, her voice encouraging.

you can do this, darling.

the ancient process of birth to running had started for silverbirch.