As much as the father in him tells him to leave the meeting to attend to his pregnant lover, the leader in him forbids it. The growling hellhound at his feet only reminds him of what duties await him, but he cannot abandon his first meeting in such a manner. For every growl Sarabi gives him, Vadir returns one with interest, her wings flared as she glowers down at the dog from his back. "So impatient," she hisses, but Volterra ignores her. His herd needs him, so he remains where he is to complete the meeting before heading after Vitani.

He has kept a close eye on her during her pregnancy, as he always does. After what happened to Valdis when she was born, the gargantuan stallion is not going to let one of his mares in labour out of his sight. Even when he is too busy running his herd, he sends one of the dragons to observe her, so he is well aware of how far along she is in her pregnancy. Excitement thrums in his belly; another mighty child borne from his loins, and this one the first since his ascension to Sultan! His wanton siring has dulled now maturity has replaced rampant lust, so the creation of a child is a more carefully considered decision. This one will take its place as prince or princess alongside his others, allowed to live in a stable herd with the Indomitable as its all-conquering sire.

The leviathan crosses his sands swiftly, following Vitani's scent. Some time has passed since she left due to the fact he'd stayed to complete the meeting, but he prays he has not missed the birth, for fear that some foul beast has managed to get its claws into his child before he can protect it. Finally he finds the mare with her sides still swollen, causing a relieved huff to emit from his jaws as he strides powerfully closer. "Vitani?" he rumbles. They are out in the open; he might have chosen the early evening for his meeting but it is still warm, and not ideal to bring a foal into the world. "Come with me to the trees. It will be safer there." He seeks to try and lead her towards a small copse of trees, their large branches offering shade and shelter.

She sinks to the ground, and the titan immediately reverses to give her space. He knows better than to crowd a birthing mother, choosing instead to stand guard a short distace away where he can keep a keen fatherly eye on proceedings. Woe betide any creature that tries to touch this mare or his newest child!

Time passes and nature takes its course. The stallion turns, intrigued despite himself by the bloody act portrayed before him - birth is an interesting phenomenon, although he will confess to a sense of relief that it's not something he will ever have to go through. The child is a wet bundle, and the leviathan's jaws split into a proud smile as he gazes upon what is obviously a healthy foal. "You have done well," he croons to Vitani, before turning his gaze to the foal. It's a girl, another darling daughter, future empress, future queen, and a fierce expression of paternal protectiveness ghosts across the titan's scarred features. As much as he wants to go and touch the newborn, he knows that isn't how it works. It is important that she stands by herself, and that the first person she touches is her mother.

"Help her stand, Vitani, but not too much - this is something she must do with her own strength." There's warmth in his voice, but sternness too - his children will be strong, and will learn to stand on their own two (well, four) feet from an early age. He watches, waiting for his newest daughter to impress him, to reach hungrily for her vital first feed.

He watches the girl closely, his heart thudding. It is important to see a child standing early, because anything else will imply weakness and Volterra refuses to acknowledge any of that in his bloodline. He remembers his own birth, the pressure he'd felt as his sire's watchful eye rested upon him and Nymeria. If he hadn't stood early....perhaps his father would not have even permitted him to live. Of course, Volterra wouldn't do anything so drastic to his own daughter, but it will concern him if she can't stand.

His worries seem unfounded as the girl lifts to her feet. She squeals, wobbles, falls; the sand is soft enough to cushion her, but the stallion is sure she'll still feel the effects. That's good - life isn't straightforward, and the filly needs to learn early on that conquering adversity is better than never facing it at all. Finally, she stands again and wobbles towards her mother to drink. The beast dips his massive head in approval, rumbling something that sounds like a purr in his throat. Good - she'll do.

She turns to face him, then, and he reaches out his muzzle to try and huff air softly into her velvet nostrils. She's so small, fragile compared to his great bulk, but hardy and strong enough to let him know that she'll grow well. "Victorina," he growls. It isn't Hungarian, but it speaks of victory, and that is what this filly will bring.

It does not occur to him that he shouldn't have offered a name so freely. It is perhaps his inner sexism talking; the girl is his child as much as Vitani's, and as the sire it is his job to offer up a strong name. No, he's too focused on the filly's fragile little body, drinking in every last piece of her. She's a beauty, that's for sure - he'll be batting away suitors once she is of age, although such thoughts are for the far future rather than now.

The girl bounces back, an invitation to play, but her spindly legs get the better of her and she tumbles down in a heap. A deep, thunderous chuckle erupts from the mammoth man's jaws and there's a warm twinkle in his eyes as he gazes fondly down at her. It is odd to see a man of his great size looking so softly down at the tiny little creature that he helped make; hard to compare the thickened, powerful warlord to the open, gentle father that adores his children so much. He leans down to snuffle at her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her to ensure that it will never be forgotten, then slips away to press his muzzle to Vitani's sweaty shoulder. "I will leave you to bond," he says to her. "If you need me, though, I am only a call away."

Giving one more glance down at his newest child, the beast slips away. He has matters to attend to, not least meeting with the new rank leads, and Ampere will surely be waiting for him. He leaves his dragons behind, though, circling gently overhead so as to keep an eye on the newborn and her mother and alert their titanic bonded should any danger befall them.