The moment after the birth was peaceful. She was dimly aware of the cool breeze provided by her mate, the way his muzzle felt as it skimmed along her wither; but for that moment, she saw and heard very little, for she had grown so out of breath that all she was truly aware of was the exhaustion. She felt Gaucho move from her, heard the first, gasping breaths of one of the twins, and was relieved that at least they were both alive. Then the blood rushed back to her head as she rolled instinctively onto her knees, and she craned her neck to gaze adoringly at the two small forms blessing the sand beside her.

Gaucho nickered and brushed his muzzle against hers, and she smiled, leaning her cranium into his embrace. "Proud," he murmured, and she smiled. Her lightning-bird circled overhead, crowing his own excitement to the wind, for he had yet to be present for any of her children. Although he had yet to completely forgive Gaucho, he loved the children for the half of his bonded they bore, and for a zephyr as prideful as he, it was of the utmost importance that the rest of Helovia know of the wonder of their birth.

The dove place her forelegs carefully in the sand and pulled herself shakily to her feet. The aftereffects of birth were not particularly pleasant, and she felt her stomach roil and her head spin as her body acclimated to standing upright. Her head dropped as she nuzzled the two colts, carefully cleaning them and encouraging their blood to flow. The rasping breath of the first worried her, for it sounded very much like he struggled to breathe; the second, blinking sleepily up at her, had a clouded, almost colorless eye. Anxiety again overtook her, and she glanced to Gaucho, worry lining her delicate features.

Find Andromeda, shekhikhi, she told Astraeus silently. It was a plea more than an order, for though they had both been born alive, her paranoia from previous births left her with a great deal of concern over even the simplest of things. In all likelihood, Rhoa would outgrow the wheezing, and Ivezho's eye would clear soon, but she wanted to be sure. She needed to be sure. As Astraeus flew away, she nudged Gaucho's shoulder. "They are beautiful, shekh ma shieraki anni," she whispered, adding her favorite phrase of his language. This, at least, she pronounced perfectly, though she stumbled quite often over other words and phrases. "We should name them. Something... strong, and proud."

"Talk talk talk."

@[Gaucho]
@[Andromeda]

Translations ::
shekhikhi | my light, a pet name commonly used for children (or, in this case, a companion)
shekh ma shieraki anni | my sun and stars

Astraeus.

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