[OOC | This thread takes place directly after !! Miss Missing You. Soh is giving birth just outside the borders of the Throat, and they will continue into the herdlands (unless someone hears her and comes to see what's going on) after the birth itself. Rasta and Apodis first, and then a lead for their acceptance, please! :3]

I am growing more and more uncomfortable as we walk, and I am really beginning to regret my decision to walk to the Threshold. I try to make small talk, at first, pointing out this landmark and that, though they are difficult to see in the dark, but soon I fall into a brooding silence. The glow trees cast an eerie light on out path, and we are in complete darkness only briefly before entering the distant light of each tree. They grow more and more sparse as we near the desert lands, and I feel uncomfortably exposed. A sheen of sweat covers my body, and I swallow hard, willing the feeling to go away.

Suddenly a stab of pain wracks my body; I cry out and fall to my knees. No, no, no, no, no. Not now. Not here! I need to be home! I need to be safe! I am not safe here - this cannot happen now! Panic sets in, though I am helpless to stop the process at this point; I sink onto my side, a stream of curses flowing from my maw. Not only am I in pain and terrified, but I am also embarrassed that Rasta and Apodis see me like this. So weak. So stupid. So alone. So, so, so alone. Tears streak down my cheeks, and it is not for the physical hurt, but for the solitude of my little family - for the loss of my mate, of my firstborn, of my living twin, of my dignity. For the lack of love from Gaucho. I hurt from everything, and that pain is so much more poignant than that of labor.

It is a quick birthing, and as I have done this once before - twice, really, as they were twins - and I am familiar with what I must go through. My breath comes in snorts, but I grit my teeth. I do not cry out. I will not attract danger to us, not here, where we are so exposed. When it is done, I pull myself to my feet and turn, dread in my belly, for what if this foal, too, is stillborn? What if I have killed another of my children? But my fears are laid to rest by the feeble snuffling coming from my newest daughter, and I begin to clean her, shame keeping my gaze from my companions'. Why, oh why, could she not have waited? "Zenobia," I christen her softly, and I smile at her tiny whinny.

"talk talk talk"
@[Rasta] & @[Apodis]

Live... I want to live on fire
Die... I want to burn out brighter
Brighter than the northern lights
Want to live to feel the daylight