well someday soon when the spring brings the sun
i'll sleep, i'll finally
feel better when the winter's gone

Cera is every bit of the father she has dreamed of having when it comes to pregnancy. Volterra had been so absent, distant, nowhere near her to even be aware of Zhu’s budding part in this world, yet again, Zhu’s conception didn’t have the peacefulness of this foal’s.
Her heart swells out of love. Not a single portion of it is romantic, but instead falls into the category that one can fill with their closest family members. He is not her mate nor will he ever be, but nonetheless Cera is her friend, her very best friend if she cares to deem him with such an important title, and his excited willingness to participate in the raising of their child only makes her feel closer to him.
They cling to each other like doves in the time between the announcement of the child’s coming arrival, but the connection between the two of them is her downfall in the end. Sikeax fears many things, and in the wake of her coming child, contractions already making way through her hips and encouraging her baby to make it into the beginning of its real life, she cannot take his company anymore.
She crafts a lie and excuse. A reason to get Cera away from her, desperately wanting to birth in peace. Hobgoblin gives no response to her in doing so, but neither of them can deny feeling the touch of disappointment in their bond. She had placed an infinite amount of trust in Cera not to have things occur like they did with Amara and Zhu, even had Hobgoblin’s reassurance, a very rare thing as Hobgoblin barely enjoys the company of anyone, and here she was, asking Cera to leave with Hobgoblin to get her some damp moss.
If she had opted to birth closer to the lake, then maybe Hobgoblin would have been able to use his magic to assist in carrying water back to her, but instead she chooses to be pushed away, nestled up in foliage and trees, shaded from the heat. She watches them leave with moss in Hobgoblin’s lips with a sigh of relief and disappointment in her heart.
Sweat clots her coat. Her pacing is terrible, pushing out long sighs with each contraction worsening, trying to remind herself that soon enough she’ll have the satisfaction of being a mother again, that soon she’ll get to see the baby that she has been some impatient for her.
One contraction, in the end, is strong enough to tell her to quit the pacing. She crumbles to the ground feeling as if the life has been drawn out of her, legs sore and numbing, pain making way like waves on the shore.
Time slips away like water between her fingers. She isn’t sure when Cera, Ilaria and Hobgoblin return to her side, how far along in her labor she is when they come, but at the end, Hobgoblin is near when the pain is over, there to announce to her that at last, she is a mother to a daughter of own.
“Baby doesn’t have dick.”
Joy overwhelms her. It almost knocks the breath of her chest, tired, sweaty, laying on the ground like a dying beast but oh, how powerful the feeling of joy and love is in the short, Hobgoblin-esque sentence that tells her that the baby is a lady like her.
Tomorrow, maybe tonight, she’s going to feel pain and soreness like she’s only ever felt once before, but now, she is carelessly throwing her spent body around, trying to swing to her head around in a desperate attempt to see her first daughter.
“What does she look like?” It flees her lips at a sprint. In her defense, the aches and pains in her body, leftover muscle contractions trying to work their way back into a state of normalcy, have made the process of making it to her baby difficult.
“You stand. See dickless baby better.”
She can’t deny to him that he has a good point, throwing her weight into her shoulders and chest and scrambling to her hooves, nearly stumbling at the pace that she goes at. Instinct drives her to stand, telling her to get off the ground, previous lessons from motherhood telling her that she needs to assess her baby, clean her, give her every bit of the love that her heart can give without exploding.
At first sight, she’s sure she could cry because there she is, a wet bundle into the red sand and grass, winged, so much like the both of her parents. Zhu had so strongly favoured his father’s genetics that she questioned if she could produce a child like herself, and here is her first daughter ever(a thing she’ll never grow tired of thinking or hearing), looking like her and Cera.
“My sweet daughter.” Her muzzle touches her for the first time in a billion times to come, taking in a long breath that smells uniquely of her. Her heart swells like the night sky and threatens to burst with the love overtaking it. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.”
There is no other words to express how she feels at this time. The rest is in the smile on her lips that hurts from the sheer size of it, the warmth she beams out of every fiber in her face.

OOC: was honestly so ready for this that i've got to post it at midnight c':
anyone is free to pop in!

"Talk."