There is not much consciousness flowing through her little mind yet, but she is vaguely aware of the squeezing sensation that slowly works its way down her body. It is not uncomfortable, in fact, it lulls her need to kick and stretch her long limbs. The process seems to drag on for an eternity, but she eventually slides over a solid surface, though her hind end lands with a soft thud. She lays quietly for a minute or so before she stretches once more, finding the motion to be far more expansive and satisfying than it had been before. Her head lifts at the same time and all at once, a host of strange new sensations overcome her as her movements tear an opening in the thick membrane that envelops her.

She takes her first breath and it awakens her sense of smell with the variety of rich, unfamiliar scents. As she becomes mindful of a heavier, more labored sound, her lids flutter open to reveal the storm cloud hue of her bewildered eyes. She wobbles in place, a sign of her body adjusting to the things it must change to operate properly in this new environment. She turns her head unsteadily and notices the large figure beside her, still prone with the exhaustion that giving birth tends to bring. The child stares, not quite understanding what is happening, but she feels compelled to move closer to this creature.

Her forelegs legs thrash wildly, not a true attempt to stand, but at least an effort to push herself toward the figure. She can feel the warmth that radiates from the body and, as she becomes more aware of the cold that has begun creeping over her own wet body, it entices her to try even harder. The membrane slips from her head and falls to her shoulders as she eventually heaves herself close enough that Tirza might reach out when her strength is replenished. Somewhat content with her nearness, the newborn peers at her mother once more, a touch of curiosity, but mostly a spark of expectancy lighting her eyes as she waits to see what will happen next.

tear

She watches intently, though there is much to distract her, as Tirza rises. She has no way of knowing the turmoil that brews in the mare’s heart, for Tear does not even comprehend who this is yet, but there is a sense of safety that is hard to ignore. Thus, there is no desire to escape the face that draws oh-so close to her own.

Her head tilts inquisitively when Tirza says, ’Little Tear.’ Whatever that means, she likes it. But that is not the only thing spoken and the phrase, ’I love you’, sounds soft and sweet enough that Tear subconsciously tucks it away at the back of her mind.

After several long moments of staring back into her mother’s face, something innate urges the child to move. She attempts to mimic the mare’s actions, but it is much harder than expected. She is a tangle of long, unsteady limbs, and she goes pitching forward, tumbling sideways, or simply crashing back down far too many times. Unnamed emotions build with each failure and as they do, thin bolts of bright blue flash with increasing intensity and frequency across the lower half of her body.

But, eventually, as almost all do, she succeeds in getting her unsteady feet beneath her. Curiously, once she does, the lightning becomes less and less noticeable until it hardly ever appears. However, the greyish-blue clouds from which the bolts originated, remain in place and continue to appear as though they weep down the length of those wobbling legs.

The triumph is not enough though, as a thoroughly new sensation gnaws at her belly. She looks to her mother again, not necessarily seeking guidance, but more out of need to make sure she’s still there. Slowly, she turns herself toward Tirza and with several hesitant steps and even more spectacular falls, she manages to reach the mare’s side. Instinct pushes her in the right direction, and when satisfied, the girl sinks back to the ground.

Exhaustion quickly begins to pull her under, but not before she gets a chance to look at her mother’s face again and brokenly parrot back to her, “I love you.”

tear