Warm, and content, I do not think much of the close proximity of the other life I share my home with. As I grow, I become restless, kicking out with little limbs I'm still not quite used to calling mine. However long it takes, for time is nonexistent for me, it somehow works. It's an odd, uncomfortable process, my entrance into this world. I am hurting and sore, wet and shivering on the cavern floor. My eyes don't seem to want to open, and I stretch to and fro to rid myself of the odd substance surrounding me. I can hear shuffling, a soft voice that I instinctively know, somehow, means safety. Love. It is a term I'm not yet familiar with, but the emotion is there, swelling in my breast like a bird. But I don't know what a bird is yet, either. I'm sure to have plenty of adventures ahead of me, but for now, I am weak and defenseless, and though my stomach growls I cannot bid myself to move.

When at last I work my eyes open, I am surrounded by ivory and grey. It's hard to differentiate between object and flesh, but I know the voice that sings in my direction is mother. The one who will love me for all the years to come in the lifetime I have only just begun. Moments later and I am joined on the cold surface, and I make a pitiful noise of discontent. Why did I have to leave the warm sanctuary I'd been in? Sure it had been cramped, but it was far better than the pain of my birdlike bones jutting out against the hard earth beneath me, the chill sweeping through the fluid lingering on my frame and making me shiver. I look over, blearily, and observe the other tiny form that has taken the place beside me. In the future I will know her as more than the name our mother deigns her. I will know her as sister and friend, confidant and lover, protector and equal. I will be her shadow, her strength, and I will ask nothing more of her in return but love. She is my perfect other half, but as of now, she is a stranger to me. How strange that I should think this at any point in my life, looking back.

First, the larger pale form of mother stands, uncoordinated at first. Beside me my twin struggles to do the same, but I merely watch them. Is this the first sign of the silence I will occupy later in life? The easily overlooked figure I will become in contrast to my sister's brilliance? I can hear my twin suckling, know in my stomach that it means food and nourishment, but I merely shift my gangly legs and look around me. We are not alone for long, a new shape appearing, soft words speaking a name that is rightfully mine, had been given me by my mother. A strange presence comes with him, small like me, but smelling very odd and un-foal-like. My interest is interrupted by my father moving forward, and I look up at him with big copper-green eyes. I sit and I stare. Mother is love, is understanding and acceptance. But father...I never move my eyes away from him, staring as if entranced. Food and warmth are of no importance now as I try to get my newborn brain to work.

Daddy.

I make a sound of pleasure, tiny little ears pricking up, and I try to move forward to touch him. Inhale his scent. I'm fascinated by him, enchanted even, and I simply want to know more. But I am doomed to fail, for as my first leg wobbles I fall forward and nearly butt him in the muzzle with horns he had gifted me, tiny little stubs of keratin that will someday be a source of pride and protection for me. His voice calls my name, and I look up at the sound of his voice, for though I cannot distinguish the words the syllables are like a web of promises and adventures waiting to be started. Warmth touches my cold, shivering side, nudging me up. I could not deny him anything, feel inclined to obey the gentle command, and I begin the frustratingly endless work of organizing my limbs beneath me.

Crashing and falling repeatedly is just as bad as my first entrance to this cold world I'm in. But soon I am standing, and it's a joyous feeling. A little dizzying, but yeah. Still joyous. Instead of turning to my mother as most foals would, whose side is still occupied by my twin, I turn my head to the little creature standing astride my father. I tap a tiny hoof as I wobble forward, head lowered to investigate this new thing. I snort at it, for I don't know yet how to make any other sound, and my fluffy tail flicks in excitement. I have made my first discovery! But then my stomach pangs, and I turn and stubbornly, almost angrily, begin to conquer my legs as I wobble towards mother and sister.

I have a feeling I'm going to be worse at this walking thing than Arwen, if only because I am determined to conquer it, not learn from it. My stubborn will is already beginning to show, and I butt my baby horns into Arwen's side, barely a pathetic nudge if anything. I'm hungry, and though I love her, I don't love her enough to share my meals yet.