Time carried on, the leaves fell from their trees, were touched with frost and a dusting of snow as they returned to the earth. Then the days grew longer again, the temperatures rose and the leaves grew back. Physical wounds healed and only a couple scars remained as reminders of her former trusting self. Her barrel swelled and so did her appetite. The past seasons had been quiet for the kingdom and she was grateful for that, hiding in the security of home, mostly secluded except for her long time and closest friend. It was shame, really, they could have been great lovers in a different life. The golden-hued vixen did love the painted stag but not the kind of love he wished she possessed. Though affectionate, because everyone needs some kind of touch, it was platonic. But he never complained, at least not to her, and continued to give stability and comfort she’d be indebted to. The pregnancy itself wasn’t so bad, can thank instincts for that. Anger still filled her heart towards the spawn growing inside her. When it began to move within her womb, her ears would pin in disgust. Although the desire for children flickered before the incident this was not something she wanted, not that way and not with that evil behemoth.

When the time came she waited for her loyal companion to leave for a border patrol, knowing he wouldn’t be gone long as the responsibility was shared among a few warriors now, but gone long enough to give her some privacy. She found a spot within the woods on a bed of moss to lay upon. Perhaps used for this very same purpose by others before her and others after. Fear filled her mind as contractions quickened. Fear something may go wrong and for how this demon would change her life.

The helpless life slid from her and the honey-hued mother stood to instinctively clean the foal, making sure it could breath. To her relief it was a normal looking foal, no wings and a palomino pelt. Its amber eyes stared dumbfounded at its mother and it was love at first sight. Her past anger had vanished and all that was left was love. Her tongue continued to clean, dry and explore the sapling. As she went, a few bright purple streaks appeared in the scruff of a mane and stump of a tail. She choked at the colour, the similar colour of it’s father. But the child made a gurgle, an attempt to communicate which snapped the golden femme from her horror and back to the innocence of the colt. Yes, it was a colt. A beautiful, healthy golden boy. She nudged him excitedly, he must get on his hooves and eat. She watched painfully as he struggled, gasping when he toppled over and trying not to intervene too much. It took a few tries but soon he was sprawled on four gangly stilts. And not long after that he was walking forward and drinking the sustenance he needed to live and grow. She was so proud, bubbling over with delight, she wanted the whole world to meet this incredible bundle of joy. He had to be the cutest, sweetest foal to ever be born. But with that also came horror, the dread that something may ever happen to him, that he gets a scratch, go hungry, acquire a broken heart or god forbid get beaten up like she was. She wouldn’t allow it, not to this innocent boy. He must never leave the Falls, the security of home and healing waters, she determined. She nickered to the child. “Cicero, my child. I will love you and protect you with my life.”

The duo made their way back to the luscious spring grass of the rolling hills awaiting @[Jedi]’s return. Her hunger fierce from the laboured event. The palomino boy was quick to rest, life outside the womb was exhausting and sensory overloading. His mother stood over him, devouring the emerald blades around his folded form. Though fatigue had settled on her too, her excitement and protectiveness would not let her rest alone.

The energy in his four-beat gait was matched by the energy in her heart. If she could feel any more joy it was now at the sight of the painted comrade. He swooped in with enthusiasm, eager to meet the wee one. Cicero awoke, perking his head up in confusion to the vibration in the ground and thundering sound. His little amber pools adjusting to the outside world, curiously taking it all in, too young to know what was going on. He looked to his smiling mother who awaited the newcomers approach and tried to mimic her. Her ears were perked in the direction of the arrival, her head raised but the rest of her body relaxed so the amber child copied her body language watching the stallion. The strangers voice loud and exuberant to fresh ears. Ashara sways from Jedi’s nudge, feeling more exhausted than she thought. But her grin never falters. As the mature brute reaches out to the tiny features of the colt, the palomino again copies this action, reaching out to meet the stranger. They exchange breath, imprinting the others scent. It’s a beautiful sight that the honey-hued mother watches proudly before answering. It’s peculiar how such a horrible past for the two equines had led them to find each other and form an odd family. She is glad he makes no comment of the coloured marks of his birth father, other than his streaked plumage and lack of star the child does look like a tiny her. It’s such a strange feeling, to have created a life from flesh and blood, that is part her and part it’s own. As he grows, his personality will too and she couldn’t wait to meet the man he’d become. “Thank you, I couldn’t have done it without your support. His name is Cicero.” Her voice is soft, humbled. The name had no specific meaning, she hadn’t even thought of names before his birth but the title just came to her in that moment of bonding.

Whether it was because everyone else was standing or because he was hungry, the colt awkwardly struggled to his feet, much smoother than the first time and began to nurse again. His streaked short tail swishing side to side in delight while his mother reached round to scratch the delicious golden rump. When he finished he made his way towards the painted stag bumping his shoulder the way Jedi had done to Ash. He was feeling more confident on his limbs by the minute, it was quite amazing. He silently continued to observe, there was so much to learn.

With lethargy finally catching up to her the flaxen mare folded her limbs and knelt to the ground. “Do you mind watching him while I close my eyes a moment?” There was no one else she’d trust more for such a task and despite what she had been through she felt safe for the time being. Safe and content.

Despite the low energy the honey-hued mother basked in the afterglow, her smile seemed to be permanently stitched that way, and doe-eyed pools filled with love and pride. She was glad the adoptive father liked the name too. A noble name fit for someone who would spend their lives in the kingdom. Perhaps he would follow in her footsteps, have a fierce loyalty to the kingdom. Although Jedi seemed to keep himself from any injury, the possibility still existed for a warrior, therefore Cicero would be encouraged by his mother to be a resident, or at most a diplomat. Can’t have him leaving on his own now, this poor innocent vulnerable baby.

She almost felt bad for not asking the painted stallion for his input in name, it was tradition for mothers to take on that task, mostly because the role of a father was minimal in a herd setting, offering protection to the harem as a whole left little one on one time. But the name had just come to her and appeared so fitting.

With well built thick legs curled beneath her, resting on her left underside, spine still upright, white starred cranium hanging loosely, muzzle barely touching the ground her amber pools closed hardly waiting for a reply. Bulky auricles fluttering towards the sounds of her young as she drifts into a state of half awake, half asleep.
He was a scruffy thing, covered in baby fuzz. Born with adequate muscle definition but lean enough to see his ribs, though that would change quickly on fattening milk. His appendages long and slender except for the knobby joints that looked like knots on a tree limb. Hind legs longer than the fronts splayed out behind, keeping an even topline. Golden covered skull showed a flat nose leading to a dark muzzle and strong round cheekbones topped with long thick ears he’d eventually grow into. His amber eyes curiously and eagerly taking in the world. Little Cicero liked the sound Jedi made, the nicker was comforting and he responded with one of his own. He responded to the nudge, moving away slightly before he realised mother wasn’t coming and with a defiant head shake he awkwardly turned around bounding back towards the resting mare, hopping like a deer in very short strides. He must have thought that was pretty fun and carried on hopping about with unsteady balance and cantering back to the stallion. The commotion didn’t phase his mother, the fact that she could hear him helped her relax deeper into slumber. His movement was choppy, with short strides and quick bursts of energy it would be many hours yet until the little one would be galloping but his desire and instinct to play was how he’d learn and he was certainly starting to feel frisky. As he cantered back towards the watching stag a look of fear crossed his wide eyes moments before colliding with the painted pillars of the stallions, tiny ebony hooves flailing in the air as he toppled over. He seemed unfazed, and unhurt staring up at Jedi from the soft cushion of emerald. He was certainly going to be a constant worry for his protective mother.