The dark mare, Leto, as she deemed her, recognized her existence with thanks. It is a odd feeling that gathers in her
chest, was this a feeling of doing good? It is.. a illogical, strange emotion, and she wants to cast it aside, but it gathers in her
throat and makes it hard to speak. She is unsure if anyone has.. thanked her, before. For anything.

As long as Circuta can remember, she was cast away, thrown as a child's toy and broken on the soil.
They cursed her, they deemed her the witch, if a child took ill in their land, they would
come to her, the witch child, and drive her and her father farther into the lands. They would not rid of them,
but she knew this was only because of her father, not of her, and if they could, she knew she would
have been cast out into the wilderness before she had a chance to live. She was the monster that lurked in the nights.
And she would have died.

Perhaps that is why she feels so strongly that she must protect this mare and her child,
she must make sure that her child is born safe, she must make sure..
She feels her weaponry slice through fragile skin, stretched along the wing of the flying lizard,
hear's it squeal as it slides free, torn from it's hold on the wretched
beast as it flies into the mists. It is not long after that it's companions whirl into
the mists, the winged brute chasing them away.
It's almost sickening that the pure bred would have her child with a
bird, but she keeps her thoughts to herself, her orbs
telling no tales. It is not the child's fault, if it was born from a feathered
brain and a high elf.

Leto screams and wails, and Circuta remains on alert,
her harks raised, although they are urged to slam down at the noise
into her mane. The beasts were gone, but if
they were to return, she would protect Leto once again from Hera.
And so, if this is Leto, then must her mate be Zeus? The king of the skies,
or is he Helios, the Sun? If his fiery personality is to be expected, he is.
Helios and Leto, a forbidden love, cursed.
A strange twist to the myth, she muses.

Helios thanks her, gratitude spills as water from his maw,
and she feels another surge of.. warmth?
Again, she forces the emotion down, as best to her efforts,
though it remains in her throat. She can merely force a nod,
afraid if she speaks, her voice will crack.
The dark one does not do these warm, fuzzy feelings.
It is not in her nature.

It is as if you were a goose one morning, and wake up to find you are next a swan.

She notes the legs that appear from Leto, and how she strains
to force her birth. It makes her feel uncomfortable.
She has witnessed births in her own herd,
before her mother died. Before you killed her.

But it is all she can do to force herself not to wince at what she is sure
Leto must be going through. She has saved her from the drakes,
but she cannot save her from childbirth. The mare must do this
on her own.

With elegance she moves forth, tentative, she doesn't
want to risk startling either. She knows she has just helped them,
but this must surely be a stressful time. They are already under pressure.
She circles behind the mare's head, gently whispering soft
comforts as she observes the event. Her lyrics are a tad bit rusty at the
edges when she first begins to speak, and she clears her throat,
for it still has not ridden itself of her emotions. She swallows the rock down.
She mustn't stress Leto further.
"Do not worry yourself further, Leto. You are safe from the drakes that hunt you."

She attempts to remember what the equines gathered around the
birthing mare's in her old family used to say, but as the beginnings of when she
first spoke, her memory is rusty.
"Breathe deep, Leto. Push the child from your womb. Breathe deep, again. Repeat. Focus on nothing else."
It is not the best of advice.
But she cannot remember much else.
She hopes it is enough.

@[Azzaron] @[Delinne]