It all went... more easily than I expected. Better to overestimate the difficulty of a task than underestimate, however. Faeanne appeared almost fond of me, though I could not be certain why. A wry grin touched my features as I drew away from her. She would grow up greater than her mother, certainly. Greater than whatever absent fool had sired her, as well. As she wandered off to graze, I continued to watch her. Did the story of our meeting make her anxious? Did she... miss Aurelia? I thought not, and anyway, I had an obligation to Evangeline to tell the story however truthfully I could. Once it was over, none of us needed ever to speak of it again. I certainly would never care to. The entire event left a lingering sour taste in my mouth.

     Banishing concern for the child momentarily from my mind, I returned my attention to Evangeline. “She had a brother, I am led to believe.” I shook my head. “As I said, however, I don’t know that one’s whereabouts, and honestly...” I glanced at Faeanne once more, hoping the sentiment would not upset her, “I’ve no use for two children. I am a healer, not a nursemaid.” I fell silent then, watching as Evangeline greeted the girl. A strange sensation prickled in my chest as they interacted. It felt surprisingly tight, tense... Perhaps my lungs had chosen an inopportune moment to complain again. All seemed to be well between the two; I could not guess at any secrets thoughts either mare harbored, but at least they greeted each other without enmity. I nodded approval. Wherever Faeanne had learned manners from, it seemed she had learned them well. It was with some difficulty I ignored her for a moment to ask Evangeline the more important question. In truth, I found the child an easy outlet for my wandering attention – I might pretend to be concerned for her, if in fact I was merely too much a coward to look anyone else in the eye. A dangerous thing to have around.

     My head jerked with surprise when laughter met the inquiry first. In bemusement, I blinked at Evangeline – was I so obviously inept? I could do little more than grin, embarrassed, when she finally began to speak. “Not as surprising as you may think, dear.” When had I become dear? Why did I feel suddenly feverish? I turned away, uttering a short bark of a cough. Perhaps I was ill; perhaps I should run away and spare them both the possibility of coming down with it, whatever it may be... I fidgeted, tail twitching between my hind legs. “Well.” Dignified I had never been, but I always prided myself on, well... pride. I had long worked in the areas in which I had so carefully cultivated my own knowledge, and yet willingly I threw myself into this foolish pursuit, as if I might bear it with any grace.

     “She needs a mother.” Evangeline spoke again and I seized the opportunity with some gratitude, content to still my chagrin if only by distracting myself with further abuse of the absent Aurelia. “Yes. A proper one.” I cast a sidelong glance at the chestnut mare beside me. Of course, I had never before hesitated to ask of her what I required; she had proven an able student, and an able queen, and I had always stood beside her faithfully. All the same, this particular request bred within me an uneasiness I wished to leave behind. It was beyond my long experience; I did not attend to children unless they were ill. I certainly did not have anything to do with mothers, or... I snorted. “That is why I asked you. Of course, I will do my utmost to keep that creature away from her. She requires care, and I thought... you might be the best to provide it. Having raised children yourself, and being the wise individual I know you to be.” There was a bite of wry humor in the statement, and I smirked at her, hoping perhaps to lighten to mood. “Thank you,” I added after a moment, with a sigh.

     On weary legs then I stepped toward Faeanne again, my whiskered nose reaching out to brush her shoulder. “What do you think of that?” I asked, unable to make my voice sound quite as gentle as I wished. “Would you like Evangeline to be your mother?” Of course, she had no choice, but I thought it seemed kind to ask her opinion, nonetheless. She had gone so long with her own needs ignored, I felt I should do as much as I could to attend to them. How else would she grow up to be sure of herself? “We’ll take care of you, so you need never feel lonely,” I declared, a little more confidently. That did sound like a generous thing to say. Lifting up my head again, I peered down at her, awaiting some sort of response.