Throughout this pregnancy, Alysanne had not been very social - and she was regretting it bitterly. The sun was setting and a thick chill had its grip on the Edge - mist rolling on through so thick that Alysanne feared she might choke on it. Or, maybe, there was something else interrupting her breathing… like her nerves. She was pacing deep in the woods, her breathing ragged and her eyes unfocused as she moved among the trees, wearing a pathway in the needles and fallen leaves on the ground.

Hemlock had left as soon as he recognized the signs that the labour was coming and that Alysanne was… hesitant. He was flying frantically through the woods, looking for one of her friends - looking for anyone who could help.

Because Alysanne wasn’t lying down. Logic had faded out of her mind, she felt disconnected from her mind. She kept shaking her head, whimpering softly as the pain grew worse, and was drenched in sweat despite the obvious chill. This wasn’t the right time for a child to be born - it was cold, too cold - and it was the middle of the night. She hadn’t done anything right this time, she hadn’t tried to make sure she was with someone else when it was getting close to happening.

It all seemed to be happening so fast this time, faster than she could even process. She was so excited to be a mother again, so thrilled about the idea of their being another foal in her life, but this part - this part, historically, did not go well and she was afraid. Her mind was flooded with the same fear she felt when Naerys had been born, when it didn’t seem as though that beautiful filly was breathing, and now she didn’t even have healing magic so that she could do something to help.

She needed to not be alone. To be alone, on top of afraid and cold, was making everything so much worse. So she kept pacing, stubbornly ignoring the signs that the foal was coming in the hopes that she could convince her body to wait for a more opportune time.

Although Hemlock told her who he had found among the Edge, it still surprised Alysanne to hear her name being called through the trees. Some part of her wanted to shy away from Amaris - not because of who she was, but just because she was someone and there was a part of the painted mare that didn’t want anyone to see her like this. She felt less and less like herself as time dragged on, she felt like hours had passed in mere minutes and that this night would never end.

“No, no, no. I can’t.” And this was before Amaris even had even said anything, just as she felt the comforting presence of her wing across her back. It was enough to bring her pacing to a stop but she swayed faintly where she stood, as though she was debating whether she should break away and just continue walking.

Even the swaying ceased with the gentle touch of Amaris’ magic - though Alysanne didn’t quite understand what was happening. She just felt the absence of the need to walk away. Her breathing was still ragged but her movements had calmed. Her eyes had just shut when Amaris demanded her attention, and she turned her head slightly to give her attention. It was clear she was still unfocused, but as much of her concentration that she could give Amaris was given. A deep breath dragged itself from her body, in time with her friend.

But breathing, focusing, were easier steps than the next one Amaris asked of her - even as another wave of pain shook through Alysanne and caused her to sway once more. She might have fallen but for the presence of the mare beside her. Her protests died on her tongue, unable to find the right words to explain why she couldn’t lie down.

It took another wave of Amaris’ magic to get her to comply, lowering herself to the ground in an awkward and clumsy fashion. She’s thankful for the presence next to her, though she couldn’t find the words or even the thoughts to string something together. They were joined a moment later by a teal-accented figure - another name Hemlock had told her of but had escaped her until this moment. “Lyanna.” Alysanne’s voice was thick and slow, and she just nodded dumbly along to the encouragements she was being given and then chewed without question the plant that she was being given.

Aaron arrived too, with beautiful little Sarai. A stray, fleeting thought entered her mind that she should get up and nurse the filly - but she no longer felt able to stand.

“I’m scared.” She confessed to the trio in a whisper, tears welling in her green eyes before she closed them, her head falling against the earth - willing herself to be swallowed up into it.

She couldn’t fight it any more - the child was coming. Although the memories were dulled with time, it felt as though this time was somehow worse than both of her other children combined. Later, maybe, she would realize that she had made things worse by pacing and delaying the process for as long as she did.

The chamomile and the presence of her friends did wonders, but it didn’t dull the pain and Alysanne called out a few times, whimpering more often than not, while her newest child came into the world. Hemlock was still hurrying through the woods, hoping to find Sacre or someone with healing magic. These woods were teaming with healers just a few seasons ago! Now he couldn’t find a single one.

Alysanne trembled afterwards, the same fear that had flooded her when she thought Naerys had been stillborn - paralyzing her where she lay, drenched with sweat and tears. Only her eyes moved - flickering between all those present, begging them to tell her whether her child was okay.