.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
Grey-brother is up, too, and the filly spares him an affectionate glance and a huff of air from her nostrils. They have a lifetime to play and interact, however - right now, her priority is her rumbling belly. Others are gathered around, but she has eyes for none but Mother, and when the mare finally rises, her eyes glow with hungry greed. The leg shifts and the red girl dives towards the teats, drinking hungrily. Her first milk flows down her throat, and her tufty tail swings like a lamb's as she drinks her fill. Strength blossoms in her chest as she finally backs away, milk dribbling down her chin and legs wobbling far less than they were.
Finally, she can spare a glance at the surrounding horses. There's the mare with the dragon, there's the big man with the twisted horn, and....there's him, fur like hers, white patches like hers, everything like hers.
Father.
The filly wobbles boldly towards him, looking up at him through fierce eyes. She flares her nostrils and sniffs him, inhales his scent and registers it in her brain for evermore. She stands in front of him for his appraisal, determined not to be outdone by her brother, determined to be recognised. She moves to sniff his leg, to brush her lips across his blood-bay fur, before trotting back towards her mother and finally allowing her tired legs to fold beneath her. She whickers to her brother, inviting him to come and lie next to her and share his body's warmth with her, before she lapses into a deep, contented sleep. There will be time to explore and play later - for now, she needs to rest, after the hard work of being born.
don't test my love
accept my love, don't test my love
cause maybe i don't love you all that much
