Striking mights and maybes even more

A useless thing called life

It's a biting cold again

It ought to be time for her soon - the pale Nurse, her abdomen swollen with child. d'Artagnan's child. His friend's child. His friend, who was imprisoned in the Dragon's Throat, torn from their herd when they'd - foolishly - turned a blind eye. The Doctor was a soldier as well, and perhaps it had been stupid of Mauja to believe that he could deal with ambushes. They'd had a few skirmished, and that green hound had come frequently for his own spotted hide, but he'd always driven her off; this abduction smelled of something else, of something vaguely familiar. Feathers and sand still, but not Xira's. In case of war, they were vulnerable without the doctor, having no one to patch them up afterwards - but there were more reasons to be irked by his disappearance. Kou was due to give birth any time now, and Mauja sorely missed his red-hued friend. It was one of the few horses he felt like he would be able to relax around, and let his guard down.. be himself, no secrets, no shields of ice just beneath his skin.

He heard the echoes of pained cries. He recognized the timber, the sound, though had never heard them in her voice before. Kou. The foal must be due, then. Heavy-hearted that the doctor couldn't be here to see it, Mauja altered his path to bring it to the newly made mother. No need to rush. Birth took a little while, and he didn't want to intrude and stare awkwardly. Giving his head a small shake, he instead made a point of sampling the air. No predators lurked, but his son was there, somewhere. But not Lotus.

Time passed, and eventually the cries ceased. Mauja was even closer now, coming roughly from where Tamlin had, and just as he caught sight of them all - a snow-flecked rump, Kou's pale shape - Tamlin began to back away. Standing there, stoic, unfazed, Mauja merely arched a 'brow at him when he spun. "You look like you've seen the devil, kid," he said dryly, not sure what had upset the little prince so. Surely not the sight and smell of afterbirth? And Kou wasn't ugly... He peered across the bush. A foal, dark in color but with what seemed to be white hind legs, stood by its mother. It, too, appeared healthy. Giving a small shrug, the King strode up to his son and gave his forelock a teasing tug before stepping into the clearing. "Kou," he greeted her, warm, yet there was a flicker of uncertainty in his soul. Had she forgiven him his careless actions? Will I do it again? Not wanting to risk the ire of a new mother, he paused a few yards away, peering curiously at the girl-child. Glass. He was not surprised at the shard jutting from her forehead, lips pulling into a lopsided smile.