The frigid breeze felt like pin pricks against the skin and it made the newborn shiver and quake. He could not register the sensation as pain, but knew in such a primitive way that it was. This new world was all-consuming and there was too much sensation… From his first breath, a bitter cold that dried his tongue, to his first squeal… everything was a new and frightening sensation.

He longed for the warmth of the womb and the feel of his sister against his chest. He wanted to return to the comfort from which he’d come and never again feel this strange earth beneath his belly. It was cold, too cold for him to properly adjust to, and loud! There was so much sound here! When the little King tried to flutter his lashes against the blinding of so much white -but what is white to a newborn child?- he could not seem to hold them open long enough to truly see.

When at last the warmth of his sister came to lay beside him, he struggled to press himself into her side. He wanted, no needed, to be near her. A sharp and perhaps shaky cry shuddered from his lips once more and this time he was taken by the sound of it. It startled him! The pitch of his own voice! But what was it? Where had it come from within? The little King could not decipher such an anomaly and instead nestled only closer to the filly with which he’d shared a womb. He did not understand the concept of their sibling bond, but only that a tie between them existed.

But then! Low and behold another scent more familiar to him than any other nosed closer. This bond was unbreakable –he could feel it in his chest- a certain longing to be near the soft touches of his mother. However, close was not close enough and when she had left him, a terrible ache began in his heart and a terrified tremor shook his bones. What was this feeling?

For a moment the little King stopped in his searching, waiting for his mother’s return, and when she came back he pressed his face against her own. Warmth. There was warmth there and he wanted it so badly, but the caretaker had other ideas and instead rolled him through the cold snow toward a light that wavered against all the white hills. It was then that his skin began to heed the heat of the flames and his trembling became less severe, even if the wind still kissed his backside. How long would this comfort last?

As he lay, working hard to fight the fatigue and the weariness that plagued him, another loud sound –or rather a series of them- unsettled his descent into sleep. The pitches were low at first and then high, hovering above he and his sister like screeching crows. The little King fought against the cold ground in order to again find himself at his sister’s side, but was stopped in these futile attempts by a flurry of movement that caused even the ground itself to shake. When finally he was able to look upon the white world without squinting, Uriel found that the winds had stopped.

He turned his small head to survey all that surrounded him -though certainly not understanding it- and found another set of eyes peering back at him. A monster?! A terrifying beast so much larger than he! His mother! Where was his mother? Her scent was not near! Who would protect he and his sister from this creature?! The white world was too strange for the little King to understand and he wasn’t sure he even liked it here yet. More than anything he wanted to take his sister back to where they’d come from… They were not meant for this place.

The bitterly cold wind bit at the newborn filly's skin and she could do little more than lay there on the equally frigid ground shivering. Each breath she took was painful, the icy air felt like it was burning from her throat all the way down into her tiny chest and she wanted to fight against it. She held her breath, but after a few seconds she was gasping in great gulps of cold air that made her cough and choke. As her coughing eased she opened her eyes and squinted against the brightness that the new world she was forced into subjected her to. A pitiful whine slipped past her lips and she began to search for her brother.

Her amber eyes widened as a large orange creature approached her, but it moved past her and as it did she turned her head and watched as the small body of her brother was rolled away. She whined again and in a desperate attempt to follow after and fell. Her long legs kicked up snow and she squealed in protest and desperation. Don't leave me! Don't take him away! Come back!

She struggled to follow after her brother, but her attempts only made her tired and discouraged. Her head dropped to the snowy ground and she watched her brother as he was situated by the glowing thing. What about her? Did they forget about her? Didn't they want her? Her eyes drifted closed and she shivered violently as the wind beat relentlessly against her tiny body. They had forgotten her.

Time was a concept that was very foreign to the newborn and what had taken her mother a matter of a few minutes felt like an eternity longer. She couldn't decipher the sound of hoof steps in the snow and was unaware that her mother stood over her until she felt the muzzle against her side. Then she was being rolled just like her brother had. She grunted and whimpered as her body was rolled then it stopped and she could feel warmth. When her eyes opened she could see how close she was to the glowing thing and her brother and her heart leaped with joy. There you are! Don't go away again!

The filly began scooting, desperate to be pressed against her brother's side even though her mother laid beside them and offered greater warmth. Her brother was more familiar, more comforting, everything she wanted. Even as another, larger creature came and touched them and laid beside them offering warmth she refused to go to them. She was relentless in her attempt to be near her brother and wouldn't stop until she was curled against his chest, her face hidden in the downy feathers attached to his shoulder.

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He is still quite taken aback by this world of white and cold and snow. But it feels much more bearable with Sariel, the little Queen, at his side. Her nose is pressed into his shoulder and the soft feathering of her mane tickles his chin- he is at peace. This is as it was always meant to be; he cannot remember a time without the filly at his side and there is a sense of longing to rise and shield her from the unnatural world into which they were thrust. He knows no words in which describe the sensation, but only that it thrums endlessly through his veins. He does not yet care for those he will one day call “mother” and “father”, but only that the other half of his entire being is now alongside him.

When he opens his eyes to the new universe with no name or words in which to refer to it by, he finds that he and the Queen are not alone. But this is not the one he had desired only moments ago, this is someone entirely different. A jester maybe? Certainly not a Knight. The little King watches as he pushes that ugly face toward his Queen and before he can stop himself, an infuriated shriek trembles from his thin, infant lips. With their mother pushing to encourage Sariel to rise, the little King begins to throw his legs about, hoping to mimic the movement. He wants to stand and face the intruder who thinks it wise to interfere with his sister and the half of his heart that is too weak to defend herself.

Again the king squeals and something in the force of such a sound pushes him to rise, albeit slowly, to the tiny hooves that would soon grace the soils of the Edge. One day he would run and play and fight and lead, even if that day was not today. He would learn and advise, protect and make mistakes, love and hate, lie and tell the truth… Everything was just at his feet, even if Uriel didn’t know that quite yet. But one day, yes, one day he would.

When at last the colt is steadied upon stiff and lanky legs, he turns again to the intruder with eyes made of the sky. For a long time he simply stares, even if he must do so around the massive shape of his father. If there were words in which he could speak, he would speak them… he would warn this other away from his Queen and make sure he never returned. With a snort, Uriel turns away from both father and stranger in order to seek out his twin. It is a struggle of sorts, as if walking upon stilts, before he finally reaches her side in order to run his weak muzzle along her shoulder. There is a definite limp in his stride and he fights the smaller, front leg for control and the ability to stay upright, but the pain is something he cannot ignore.

Instead of lingering by his sister’s side, he wanders closer to the figure of his mother in hopes of steadying himself against her warm side. He knows he must stay erect, but his legs are weak and his joints so sore… He hates to admit this weakness, but there is nothing else the little King can do.

The filly had been so focused on getting closer to her brother, that she had not been aware that another had joined them by the fire. She had kept her face pressed against Uriel's shoulder and her eyes closed as she tried to soak up the meager warmth that he offered that she did not see the newcomer that reached his neck out to her. Even as Uriel shrieked and her mother pushed at her she tried her hardest to remain tucked beneath her brother's neck. She squealed her own protest, her body going rigid because she didn't want to move. But her mother was relentless and Sariel was soon forced away from Uriel and that made her stumble to her hooves.

Somewhere beside her, her brother rose to stand and when she turned her head to look at him he was facing another foal. Her ears fell back and she stepped forward then stopped when she felt a pain in her stomach. Instinct made her turn from her brother and look to the orange mare and Sariel drifted closer to her on shaking legs. Her small muzzle bumped along her mother's side as she sought out something that she wasn't quite sure of. Whatever it was she was sure that it would make the hurt in her stomach go away.

Her head dipped beneath her mother's stomach and she began nursing. She was hesitant at first, but as the warm milk filled her belly she became more eager. The world around her, the icy wind, the snow beneath her hooves, the crackling fire, mother, father, brother, stranger were all forgotten as she filled her tiny belly. Well, they were forgotten until the touch of her brother's muzzle against her shoulder shocked her back into reality. Milk dripped from her muzzle as she looked to Uriel, her amber eyes wide as she wondered if he wanted to drink. She began to step aside to allow him to, but he moved away to their mother's other side, so she followed slowly after him. She poked her head around their mother's chest and looked at him as he stood beside her.

A tiny, warbling whinny slipped past her lips as she moved toward her brother. She pressed her muzzle against his neck and began pushing against him, trying to turn him into their mother's side and direct him toward the milk that had filled her belly and made her feel better.

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