[sorry for completely ignoring Moth D: when I was writing the post, there weren't any replies]

There is another beneath the rain; an amber stallion tipped with electric blue. With saddened eyes the rainchild acknowledges him, dark ears flicking off the rain as it trickles down gently. It is sad when a child is alone beneath a drizzle, when his mother's last breath comes near. She sighs softly, like summer days, eyes finding the dying she-wolf, grey fur patched with blood and dirt and rain. There is nothing you can do for me, she says, voice muted, as if being said from a hundred miles away. Life is so fickle, the roan girl thinks, watching the mother intently, so eager to fly away to better places. Another sigh, this time bitter. At least love is like the ocean, steadfast and eternal. Another comes, a tall black warrior Huyana immediately begins to resent. But not always.

It continues on, pattering relentlessly on their bodies; mourning for the dying mother, for the orphan child, for all the souls congregated around them, sadness in their eyes. The pegasus warrior suggests relief for the she-wolf, a new home for the pup, a notion which is rejected plainly by the strange amber stallion. Relief can come in so many ways - may it be death or something else. Mother shakes her head, and yet another comes, this time a soft red roan; she curls around the wolf, providing comfort in her last moments.

Resolutely, the bright yellow eyes of the she-wolf meet those who have come to help and to ache; unicorn, pegasus and equine. To her eternal surprise, the pup is nudged towards the roan, his body quivering with fear and sadness and cold, little tail tucked between his legs. The amber stallion pushes the babe gently, encouraging him into the girl's legs. Rainchild bows her head in respect, soft light glinting off the flat of her horn. "Thank you, mother," the girl murmurs, eyes flicking towards the she-wolf and her dying words, watching as she imparts wisdom to the others. And then finally, effortlessly, naturally, the woman is brought reprieve, eyes closing as she drifts away - a ship cast away to a voyage of no return. And may she find better shores.

Then he comes, the strange blue-rimmed pegasus, escorting the child carefully. He bounds forwards with all the clumsiness of a puppy, damp pale fur flowing in the downpour. He crawls between her black forelegs, whimpering sorrowfully, and with all the tenderness of a mother, Huyana bumps his downy white fur with her nose. The amber offers help, and the roan smiles gratefully, meeting his electric eyes. "Please," she says, feeling tired and renewed.

As it always does, the rain brings release - and promise of new life.

Raindancer.