M
U
R
T
A
G
H

Murtagh didn’t mind that sometimes Lakota was bitter in the morning, sometimes she was glacially slow at getting up, because if he called for her she would come - and he loved her for that. He rarely got himself into trouble (well, serious trouble anyway) but if he had something exciting to show her she’d always come and see what it was - even if it was just a funny rock that reminded him of Archibald or a patch of grass that had a weird smell.

And it was no different now, on the first snowfall of the year. Murtagh stopped his dancing with a wide lop-sided grin to meet the bear and mare that came out of their sleeping spot. They were both greeted with a happy whicker closely followed by a wide-eyed stare up at Lakota as she wished him a happy birthday.  “Grazie, mammina!” He leaned his body into her as she kissed between his ears, a blissful smile on his face as he closed his eyes. In a year of life, he had never known anything but love - so utterly spoiled by the hardened mares that raised him, that softened for him. He saw their strength, their wisdom, and their beauty - any flaws utterly hidden by the rosy sheen he saw the world in. When he opened his lavender eyes and looked up at Lakota with that bright smile, he delighted in seeing the same eyes on her face - the same shade of blue to her skin as was on his. He wore the tell-tale signs of who his parents were with pride. “My birthday!” He whispered quietly to himself, marvelling in the wonderful connotations that the word had.

Well, truthfully, he did not quite understand the concept but it sounded special and he didn’t mind that one bit.

The peaceful moment was over when Lakota tugged on his mane and beckoned him into a game of tag. A snorting laugh came from the colt as he gave chase to his mother, the laughter making it far too hard to run properly for the first few steps but he got it under control. A few more after that and he was getting the hang of moving along a coat of snow again - bucking with delight underneath the falling flakes before chasing after his mother. “I’m gonna catch you!” He called out, doing his best to get close enough to tap her gently with his dark muzzle. But as he stretched out, his hooves slipped in the snow and he tumbled - the laughter not even turning into a shriek but instead into more as he tried to catch his breath.

But between the laughter he tried to get out two quick words to stop any worry. “I’m alright! I forgot how slippery the snow can be!” And he laughed again, stretching out his fallen form so that he was lying on his side in the snow and wiggled about in the cool damp flakes. “Do you and Papa ever slip and fall? I can't wait to be a grown up so that I don't do that anymore.” Although if he was going to fall, this was certainly the season to do it!