The chestnut watched in horror as Alvilda failed to stand, the blood still flowing. Her cries of panic and fear terrified him more than anything ever had. He sank to his own knees, bending his neck over hers again in a fiercer embrace as if he could simply hold her together through force of will. The scent of blood stained the air in an invisible cloud. He couldn't speak. He could only hold her, eyes shut and already beginning to sting with tears. The place where her muzzle had touched him seemed to burn. He did this. It was his fault. If he had never gotten her pregnant, she would have been okay.

Her pitiful pleas for him to stay finally roused Vicer from his stupor of horror. "I'm here." he tried to assure her, "I won't leave you. And I won't leave her." Amara. Their daughter. He would never leave her. Even now, the filly was stumbling to her dam's side, first words already making their hesitant way forth. He would have been amazed as her precociousness if the situation hadn't been so dire. He continued to hug Alvilda against him, chest pressed against her shoulder, feeling her heart begin to flutter weakly. As much as he wanted, prayed, for her to be okay, he knew deep down she wouldn't be seeing the next day.

Alvilda began to scream again, lapsing into hysterics as her body began to shut down. He pressed himself to her side, trying to share some of his warmth with her. His mate was dying, and he couldn't do anything to help her. All he could do was try and lend a pitiful amount of support as she passed. No matter how much he willed it otherwise, her body was growing cold. She begged him not to let her leave. "I don't want you to go." he mumbled, throat clenching. "Please don't." And for the first time in his life, Vicer began to cry. He could feel her slipping away little by little. Her final words graced his ears, a final breath escaped her lips, and then nothing.

The beach was silent for a heartbeat. And then,
"Alvilda?"
"Alvilda??"
"ALVILDA!!!"

The chestnut's body shook, and his head craned upwards to release a feral, wordless scream. The sound rang down the beach, a sound of pure grief and rage and sorrow and regret all rolled into one heart-rending cry. He continued to scream, bellow his anger at the mockingly beautiful sky, the waves that lapped hungrily at Alvilda's hooves, the sun that watched impassively from afar. With a high keen, his screech died away, leaving him slumped over her, sobbing quietly. He didn't register the approach of Corsair and Cosette. His touch caused him to jolt up, eyes manic and rage-filled, breathing hard. He looked at Corsair without seeing him, his mind still filled with blood and screams and a mare that begged him not to leave. Amara's plaintive cry finally brought him back to sanity, and he looked down at the filly who nudged up against his leg. "Mommy's not coming back." he said quietly, choking up.When Cosette spoke, he seemed to hear the two adults again, and nodded shakily at her offer of a surrogate. "That...would be nice. Thank you. Thank you both." He hoped that their birthing day wouldn't be as tragic. A squawk from above drew his attention. Seagulls were circling, the scent of blood drawing them. "Go away!" he screamed at them, mind slipping again. He wanted to guard her body until the end of time. But he had to guard their daughter too. He knew he would have to relinquish her to the elements eventually. He dreaded the thought.