Striking mights and maybes even more

A useless thing called life

It's a biting cold again

It didn't surprise him that his presence made Tamlin gather his wits. He often had that effect on his son, making the gears in his head turn and his intrinsic pride come out. Of course, it was a natural desire to please one's parents, but sometimes he wondered if maybe, just maybe, the colt was trying a little too hard, a little too much. Vanity was his largest flaw, yet it was also one of the things which seemed to drive him. So did he do what he did for the right reasons, or was he merely fishing for compliments?

However, this was not the time to ponder his own child's inner workings - not that Tamlin would allow himself to be forgotten for long. The thud of rapidly falling small hooves had his ears flicking back, pausing midstride to turn around and peer at his rushing son. "Faðir! Ekki fara þarna, hún étur börn! Hún étur bö-!" Of all things that ever could happen, of all words Tamlin could ever say, these were certainly not the ones he had expected. For a moment he just stared, nonplussed, at his son, even as he seemed to realize his own folly and breaking off his warning. "Hún etúr börn?" Shaking his large, white head, Mauja gave a deep laugh, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Grinning, he reached out to give Tamlin's forelock another pull. "Ah, sonur minn..." He said no more, though, as Tamlin's gaze seemed to have gotten glued to the young filly. No need to embarrass him, if he'd already figured out for himself that birth was harmless and didn't involve eating the kid before popping it out.

"d'Artagnan was supposed to be here." Could a single sentence speak more of a mother's and lover's anguish? Mauja had noticed the spark between them, and with Kou's abdomen swelling, had come to the conclusion of it finally going through d'Art's thick skull to his heart what he felt for the Nurse. Her tone of voice confirmed that there were feelings, and not just lust, involved. The King's own face fell, sorrow in his blue eyes as he let them drop to Aviya. What could he say? Blame himself for not being there to protect the Doctor? "He'll be proud you managed this all on your own," he finally said quietly after a moment, gaze traveling up to Kou's face again. He wished there was something he could do, but there wasn't.

Then all of a sudden Tamlin leaped into the air, disappearing like a flash of smoke to hide behind Mauja's white frame. His ears fell back, listening to his son, even as his concerned gaze and focus rested on the little filly. She was coughing something awfully, and it didn't just sound as if she'd gotten milk down the trachea. "Veit ekki," he murmured to his son, giving Kou a glance to see if she'd slam on the mother bear instincts and kill him if he went closer or not. Hoping that she wouldn't, the King padded closer, touching his muzzle to the filly's outer flank. "Easy," he murmured, hoping that they'd be able to soothe her enough so she wouldn't panic on top of it all. Damn it - this was why they needed d'Artagnan.