They conversed for a few moments, drawing themselves into a conversation that had nothing to do with me—yet, it had everything to do with me. I wouldn’t realize that for many months to come, just as I wouldn’t fully realize the implications of this fellow’s presence today. How can children measure the importance of a memory? Or the filling of a hole? Surely when I got a little older I would notice that something had been missing in my small world that consisted of Momma and me. If he had remained a shadow; surely I would have gotten confused, maybe even bitter. This memory would serve as a reminder, comfort, lesson. He is watching me again, though I’m not certain those eyes have ever left.

My crown lifts, brushing the high points of Momma’s quarter, taking liberty to gaze at the strong jawline of this towering stranger. I had no use for fear, it hadn’t been learned yet; nor was there a firm understanding in the high speaking ways of mannerism. It was only natural when dual glass orbs met the stare of my sire, that I stared as only a small youngling might look up with their fingers still trapped in the recesses of a too small mouth; innocent curiosity—I was looking into the gaze of my latest plaything of interest.

She reached for me, stroking the top of my neck and below. I was a physical sort of foal, so when Ma offered touch, hints of a smile took shape across this her babes lilac cavity. In turn my muzzle stretched out; pushing delicate snout into her face—trying to rub down the curve of her jowl that came within reach. “Sielu,” as any good natured child might, I shift my eyes to her to show my attentiveness.

Something was different about the way she stared at me though…I couldn’t give name to this change.

“This is Mauja the Frostheart.”

He…Mauja…moves from the opposite side to stand before me, exposed, yet there was also caution with half his body hidden, but the important half made appearance. I take a moment to observe all that makes this person who he was or…is—down to the heavy feathering that shields his feet. In time my forefeet would also have feathering, though it wouldn’t be the feathering of hair—but of frosty mist.

Like the rest of our family, there is a horn sprouting from his brow; icy blue and somehow dangerously beautiful. Like an ice sickle. “He is your father Sielu, and loves you just as I do.”

Lips had curved into an easy smile—now they pitched down in a way that was unflattering for this face, yet necessary to convey a feeling. I wasn’t an ignorant foal, Momma had taught me what such words meant; mostly by using example. Once before, we had seen an eagle pair--high uptop a tall green spruce. She had mentioned how they were a ‘mated pair’, fixing to have hatchlings. I learned through them that children had both a Ma, and a Da. Though I never thought to question the meaning it would have on my end of things; it was information that had been stored away for another day—and I had simply moved onto the next exciting discovery.

Gently I press out, stretching with silver tendrils until I had touched Momma’s mind enough for what I wanted to show. Through this bond I send her the image of that eagle pair we had seen some time back, verifying the word ‘father’ with a sense of needed assurance. “Hello Sielu,” My concentration wavers but holds our link firmly together with the same mild way of touching. I meet my father’s gaze, now they are staring at me with a recognizable tenderness—I wanted to say something, to say hello in return. Sending some of those magical cords his way I tried to make first contact. I also try something new; I was attempting to touch the minds of both adults at the same time.

Small fingers didn’t make it far; and this shocked me. Little face broke into a full out frown, tiny brows narrowed and my front limbs started to widen; as if I was bracing against whatever blocked my path. Prying deeper I pushed against the strange barrier, searching its smooth walls for entrance. Below, above, all sides, they remained intact and unable to give me boon. A child’s patience was short, and I held no exception. My attempts had always been reward with the release only speech could give, a simple release that all creatures seemed able to express in one way or another. This was unfamiliar and creating a hot ball of…frustration…it cloaked my face in heat—making me flush.

With a toddlers frustration I switched back to Momma, my questioning gaze turning to her for guidance. “I…can’t talk to him…what’s wrong?”