Swarthy clouds seemed to shroud the entire world in darkness; not even the stars dared to reveal their luminous faces today. That night was ominous, a shroud of obscurity, an inky veil seemingly pulled over that haven for unicorns.

Cloven hooves stumbled through winding mountain paths as the first drops began to fall.

The roan had felt a vague sense of disquiet the last few days, building up slowly into a feeling of utter, stirring unease. It was something she had felt at various times throughout her life, a sensation that made her want to crawl out of her own skin—this was foreboding, restlessness, like a storm cloud, filled with water, that floats over the earth for a place to rain upon. Huyana wanted to be alone in this state of disquiet, and banished herself into the high crown of mountains which surrounded the Basin like stone sentinels, hiding the rain mare as she fretted and waited.

Horn upon stone spelled out a frantic beat as the rain began to spill faster, heavier, drawing a halo around the inky form as she hurried ever upward, muscles straining as she climbed toward the gaping mouths of the high caves. The mare was almost comically round; all belly with slender legs attempting to right themselves as they inevitably lost balance under the weight of her bulk. She cried out as the fitfulness and discomfort culminated in shots of pain along her barrel, causing her to reel wildly in the relentless rain and the small trail she followed. Hurt, she was hurting, and her pace increased into a clumsy jarring trot, hooves slipping over the pebbles. Never in her life had she been so ungainly, and the graceful feet she had relied on for so long conspired to betray her in their swollen soreness. Every step forward was uncertainty, and she felt as if the safety of the caves was a luxury out of reach, and she felt that her element colluded to destroy her utterly and completely. Should she let herself be laid down here, in this driving rain and rock? Eyes turned heavenward, squinting against the water; vaguely, she saw the highest peak rise ominously above her, like a sentinel made of stone, its tip hazy and indefinable as the wisps of clouds held it within their roiling bellies.

Desolate and panicked, the roan continued unremittingly through the rain, reminding herself that she'd live to see the day. She strained and pushed forward, until her limbs threatened to buckle beneath her, and then she reached the mouth of a cave, lovely and welcoming. In a cacophony of clattering hooves on stone and packed dirt, the dark form stumbled into the embrace of its dryness, sending a spray of droplets across the stony floor. Huyana staggered several paces forward, where the curving back wall of the grotto could offer respite from wind and stray drops and cloak her in shadow. She leaned against it, shivering with dampness and worry, feeling so uncharacteristically helpless against the continuous tirade of agony which wracked her body from the inside out, threatening to topple whatever frail wall of composure and modesty she had built for herself. Powerless and alone is what she was—it was a senseless idea to have sought out solitude for something as urgent and perilous. This, the act of ushering forth life, was the most dangerous thing she had ever attempted, moreso than trying to fight off shades or staving off sorrow.

She groaned as the agony was felt stronger and with more frequency; it was not the decisive pain of battle, but the squirming sort of unbearable, the kind that made you gnash your teeth with impatience and despair and utter helplessness. You could not stave it off with a salve or a bullet between teeth; it gnawed at you until every fiber of your being was utterly and completely numb. She cried out as a particularly cruel contraction sent a pang of dolor reeling through her small frame. Knees buckled, giving into instinct as she laid herself, hopelessly wet and dripping, on the cavern floor, leonine tail lashing violently as if it could abate the pain. "Father," she whimpered, clinging to the comforting syllables of the world, feeling as lonely and helpless as the child she once was and forever would be, cynically wondering if he still remembered his blue-eyed daughter. Would he recall my name? she pondered bitterly, would he care if I was reduced to dust and ash? Huyana felt delirious.

Damp air came rapidly through her nares, inflating her chest with every frantic breath as nature gave her the urge to push, to expel the body within her into the damp world. Occasionally, she would tempt a peek back, but the only thing she saw was the massive, roiling swell of her side and the black tuft of her tail, splayed awkwardly against stone. Rain pattered on relentlessly outside, like a pale sheet staving off the night from intruding. When will this end? she wondered, trembling with increasing weakness—would she perish as so many other mothers-to-be before her—was she condemned to the whims of this dangerous line of duty? Huyana cried out once more, body tensing excruciatingly with every thrust it dealt, leaving her breathless and dizzy. "Deimos," the girl mewled, resting her cheek on the cold stone, watching the blustering threshold as if she could summon the general with a mere murmur.