The mixture of scent of afterbirth and blood filters into the elephant’s thick, black nostrils. Blood? He knew that blood was a part of the birthing process… But so much of the coppery scent invaded his nose that concern stirred its owlish face in his mind and caused movement of his large hooves. He followed the scent at a swift walk— it took him closer and closer the the edge of the Edge. Why would a mare choose to birth so close to the wilds and so far from the safety of the herdlands’s heart?

Now both perplexed and uneasy, he moved up to a pounding trot. Long, thick columns of legs sweep away the distance between him and the unknown, bleeding mother. But he need not have worried, for his perked and straining ears catch the words, “I'm going to heal you, after that you need to stand and feed your children.” Ah, good, one of the doctors he has not yet met seems to have stumbled upon the scent of blood as well.

Though shock shatters the brief relief he felt as he finally set eyes upon the new-dam in question. It was Nyx. He had seen her rounded, pregnant sides at the last Rift God battle- but it was entirely a different matter to see the foals upon the ground beside her. He hadn’t been sure if he was the father— he had never found Nyx after the battle to discover the truth of the matter. He hadn’t thought the mare to be in heat when he mounted her… but he hadn’t been certain.

So he was surprised by the combination of elation and disappointment that flooded his barrel as his deep blue gaze studied the handsome colt and beautiful filly that lay slick with afterbirth. The filly was clearly not of his loins— for he had no way to provide that coloring. The colt could have been from Nyx’s coloring— but he could not have supplied that ruby nub of a horn. So these striking twins must have come from another stallion that bested the voltaic warrior.

Perked ears flick to the recumbent Nyx, “Congratulations, Nyx,” his low voice rumbled quietly, but still warmly despite the conflicting emotions that ravaged him, “Your approach to mating seems to have worked out once again— they’re fine foals.” Indeed, they were beautiful new lives awkwardly adjusting to life outside the womb. “Have you named them?” azure eyes turn to warm depths as he studies the twins. Though he was a stallion, an old warrior, he felt the tenderness melt the cold rock of hatred that the Moon’s magic seemed to protect and grow.

He lowered his great head, broad muzzle reaching towards the foals as he huffed a wordless welcome to the world. “You might want to stand and feed them, lazy woman,” a wry smile accompanied his badgering remarks as he grinned lopsidedly at Nyx.

Belatedly, he realized that his attention had been absorbed by the foals and his realization that he was not a father. His apologetic gaze swung to the Healer, “Apologies- I am Tembovu, Glazier of the Edge. You must be one of the Moon Doctors?” He rumbles to the striking chestnut mare with flaxen mane and tail.