Baby Shower [Tingara's and Nandalie's Herd]

[Tiggs]

Slow and ponderous, Crayola the brown-spotted mare came walking slowly from a well-worn brumby track. As was her usual habit, she had not gone too far to give birth to her foal. She had been delighted to find she had been given a filly, and named the little thing Tinar to mean woman, female. Though on closer inspection, she discovered it was a colt! Having already named the little boy, she didn’t want to confuse him by changing the name. Luckily he didn’t seem to mind, and as she got to know him, it seemed to fit.

She was arriving back now with her newborn at her side. Tinar was a flighty colt, but he seemed comforted by her presence and she nuzzled him frequently to reassure him. Her first colt had been bold and brave, but Tinar was more like Kurrin or Castelle. No matter, she loved all her foals the same, and Tinar was no different.

Tingara had moved the herd once the majority of the mares had given birth due to the size the herd was getting to, and the men’s increasing activities. Crayola was at home in Yarraman’s Valley, having spent much of her time here in previous years. As she and her colt drew near the fold, she called to her stallion. Tinar trembled beside her, and the mare paused to comfort him, urging him to suckle. Nursing seemed to help his nerves, but he pressed close to his mother, staring wide-eyed at the sheer amount of horses grazing the valley.


In a lower part of the valley, another herd was grazing. A strawberry roan stallion stood amongst his mares, ears trained on the noise from up the valley. He could not see the herd; they must be around the bend in the valley. The wind would be carrying his scent toward them but Nandalie was confident. He was happy grazing here, and in his peak summer strength, he would meet any challenges for the space. He would not pick fights, however, and as the other herd had barely interfered with his so far, he was happy to just keep an ear on them.

Irawaddy had left that morning, heavy with foal. His thoughts were with her, eager for her return. He hoped she would not go far; he always worried about his mares when they were away from him. So he was stuck with Wyuna with one less buffer. Luckily he had his sweet Baramay, calm grey Corowa, young Camira and his daughter Amarina. He was conscious that colts would be sniffing around for Amarina soon and though he would not stop Amarina from going eventually, he would not let that happen before Irawaddy returned to say farewell.

Playing the over-protective father well was Nandalie’s speciality, and he hovered round his mares, cautious and alert while listening to the other sounds of brumbies from up the valley. Perhaps he might take his mares closer, find out sooner rather than later if this other herd was a threat. There were certainly many brumbies; it might do to make his neutral intentions clear before he was misinterpreted as a threat. A herd that size obviously would have a powerful stallion, hopefully one that would not be interested in adding more mares to his herd.

Nickering to his mares and fillies, he began to lead them slowly along the valley gorge, heading for the hubbub of noise.

[yaruka]

Tingara's Mares:

Dear spotted Crayola was not the only one returning that fine day to the valley. As the sun reached it's peak in the sky a delicate chocolate coloured mare made her way towards the large band of horses. As was her breed's habit, Taworri had given birth at night. But instead of waiting until night to return to the herd, when she would have been most comfortable and as she had done with her first foal Boorana, Taworri had returned in broad daylight. She was not certain why, except perhaps because her new colt glowed with the light of the sun and it seemed only fitting that it should be under it's light, not the light of the moon, that he first met other brumbies.

The colt was certainly handsome. Leggy and refined he pranced and played boldy at his mother's side. His coppery coat was highlighted by a fair mane and tail, ample leg white and a flashy blaze. A faint dorsal stripe and leg barring topped off his exoticness. At his first sight of the enormous mob froze, Kurrawa's nostrils flared widely and his eyes rounded with awe. But instead of taking fright as his sister, Biara, had done, he planted his neat hooves and whinnied a audacious greeting to them all, slight body shaking with the effort. His mother reached over to give the colt a gentle nip in reprimand. He was not the King's song and it would not do to be imprudent. If Kurrawa was going to live with a stallion other than his sire he was going to have to learn to blend in, though the concept was clearly going to be difficult for the shining colt to grasp. Kurrawa exuded confidence, vitality evident in his every movement and line of his elegant body.

Kala was already back, having not wanted to leave Jannali alone for too long and having also been slightly encumbered by circumstance. After all, it was rather hard to keep track of two newborns all by yourself. The red roan had been delighted and stunned when she had given birth to not one, but two foals- twins! Miraculously all three of them seemed in good health, though Kaiela was on the small and skinny side for certain. Constantly the chestnut roan urged her youngest daughter to suckle despite the roan dun's protests. Kaiela wasn't very interested in feeding, which was probably part of the problem. No, the little filly would much rather be playing with her brother. Omeo was practically her idol.
As her mother grazed, alone now that Jannali had left to give birth, watchful eyes constantly following the her two youngest foals' antics, Kaiela frolicked and played on long, spindly legs along with her brother.

Wyralla had been amazed when Kala had returned with two little brumbies clinging to her side. But her amazement had quickly changed to delight. This was brilliant-more young horses to play with! But the chestnut filly had quickly found out that the two twins could not yet keep up with her rough games (despite their best efforts) and had resorted to playing with them while she could tolerate their restricted activity, before darting off to join in with the other fillies of the herd, with whom she had quickly become fast friends.

Biara noticed her dam's return at once, despite the fact that Taworri moved no more noticeably than the soft evening breeze for which she had been moved. The sensitve filly was finely attuned to all that went around her and had been quite concerned about her mother. She gave a gentle whinny of greeting before stepping closer to dam and youngest sibling. She didn't go right over for fear of intimidating the young colt. She needn't have worried. Not much ruffled Kurrawa.

Bindaree grazed peacefully beside some of the quieter mares of Tingara's herd. She was not opposed to fun but wasn't quite as outgoing as the other fillies. With her tall frame and slender, willowly body, Bindaree often looked older than she was, and she acted it too.

Boorana was quite the opposite of her half-sister. Perhaps she ought to have matured a bit more in her two years, but the fact was, she hadn't. The slate grulla loved her fun, constantly on the look out for the next adventure or game. At the moment she grazed jerkily, impatient for something to happen. At Biara's quiet whinny she looked up to see Taworri and a light coloured colt approaching. Excitedly she pranced over to greet her mother and new brother, ignoring Biara's gentle suggestion that she hold back. Extending her soft nose to the colt's trembling one she snuffled him inquisitively, delighted when he didn't back down. A kindred spirit at last!

[Wirruna's still returning from giving birth, she was really late this year ]

OOC: gah, I'm tired out and need to do homework. I'll finish this epic post off with Nandalie's mares later

[Ehetere]

Muyan slipped silently around the tree line atop Yarraman’s Valley; surprised to find not only Tingara’s herd, but another stallion’s too. Her tall, leggy filly foal followed close behind her; placing her dainty little hooves exactly where she placed her own. Muyan felt swelling pride for the lovely foal she had produced. Uralla; for the running water. Muyan had given birth in a moonlit glade beside a small stream; and as was the way of the bush she had named her daughter for just that.

Already Muyan knew that her daughter would be at one with the bush; just like she. She didn’t have a particularly flashy coat; just a nice woody bay with a wide blaze and two socks. Plain but effective for hiding in the bush. But what her coat colour lacked; her foal certainly made up for in body shape. Finer than her mother; her appearance was rather long and thin; but not gangly like some horses were. It was more elegant. In this respect; Muyan knew that her daughter would grow to be lithe and swift; and oh so very wise. With bright eyes and a long, intelligent head, Uralla was sure to grow to be quite a mare indeed.

* * *

Uralla stared with apprehension down at the huge number of brumbies in the valley. Never before had she seen so many horses! And so many different colours! Or smelt so many different scents! It was all rather overwhelming, but Muyan’s reassurances urged her on; and she concentrated on placing her feet exactly where she had been told. Her mother seemed to know an awful lot about the bush; so Uralla always listened to her lessons intently, absorbing knowledge like the ground after rain.

Muyan led her into the mass of horses, and she pressed herself closer to her wise mother’s side. There were other foals such as herself, but wariness kept her from exploring for the moment. Uralla was a rather quite little filly; much like her mother, and rarely spoke unless she thought words were truly necessary. Muyan wandered over to always friendly Crayola, the spotted mare, forcing Uralla to follow. Nervously, she peeked out from under her mother at the dark coloured foal who was suckling from his own mother. He had curiously coloured patches on his rump; and Uralla wondered what was wrong with him. Uralla nipped Muyan lightly to get her attention and the asked, “Mother; why has he got those funny patches on him? Did he roll in some clay?”

* * *

Muyan chuckled quietly at her little foal’s sweet innocent question. “No dearest, he has got his colouring from his mother and father.” She then extended her nose in greeting to the other mare and said politely, “That is a fine colt you have there. What have you named him?”

[yaruka]

Here are my Nandalie mares that I didn't get a chance to post with before

A bright bay mare made her slow way along a sheltered path, pausing often to scent the air. Her sedentary pace wasn't due to laziness but rather to the little shadow hovering behind her. Her latest foal. Irawaddy turned and nosed the little bay roan foal affectionately, thinking how much Kiata reminded her of Amarina, at least in appearance. Nickering softly in encouragement she led the way back to Nandalie. Finally they covered the last patch of undergrowth and as the little herd came into sight Irawaddy whinied a soft greeting, proudly stepping out to catch up with Nandalie and show off their latesdt foal.
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Camira wasn't altogether happy at being in such a crowded area. The young filly had always lived in small herds on the outskirts of the High Country, and apart from the brumby drive, she had never scented so many horses so close together. But Camira trusted Nandalie and so she did not complain. The dainty palomino could tell her stallion (yes, he was finally was her stallion) was worried, likely about Irawaddy.

Camira, too, missed the gentle calming influence of the tall bay mare but wasn't too concerned just yet. It had only been a day and a half since Irawaddy had left the herd and she knew the mare was very unlikely to wander off into danger. She had never met a more dependable and sensible horse than sweet Ira. Shyly, she wandered over to Nandalie's side, nuzzling his shoulder gently. As the red roan moved off she shadowed him, making sure not to encroach on his space but close enough for comfort.
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Wyuna was in a foul temper as usual. It wasn't about anything in particular, not really. She couldn't say she was all that thrilled about being near so many horses, Wyuna liked her personal space, but it wasn't really that. It was something less explicit, more like life in general was bugging her at the moment.

Nandalie's attitude didn't really bother her, even though she could tell he couldn't stand her. Quite frankly the seal brown mare didn't care, but looking at the red roan just made her angry. For Wyuna Nandalie represented their failure as a herd to remain free. He had been in command when they had been captured by men, thus his reputation was irrepairably damaged by Wyuna's standards. And he reminded her of her own failure to make good on her promise to herself that no men would ever touch her again. At least the men hadn't gotten away unscathed. She had left many a wrangler with a whole host of bruises and cuts, the mare wouldn't doubt that the men had secretly been glad she had escaped.

As Camira passed her, Wyuna continued to graze foul temperdly, reflecting on her second time with the men. A insolent gesture by most standards, but for Wyuna it was practically charitable. Her little palomino daughter was the only one of this herd that she could stand and didn't actively aggravate. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the pretty filly make her way over to Nandalie. Wyuna snorted angrily. Camira deserved better than that idiot red head. Watching the stallion Wyuna could tell he was anxious, probably worrying about that damn Irawaddy mare. Stupid stallion, Irawaddy was a grownup, she could take care of herself. And who needed such a gentle, likeable goody two shoes mare anyway. Wyuna tore at the grass with unecessary force. Maybe the stallions down in the valley would be more impressive. She should check it out.
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Amarina was grazing close by Corowa, her lithe frame taught with anxiety. Every couple of seconds the bay roan would raise her head and gaze about anxiously, searching for her dam. This was the first time she had been seperated from Irawaddy in her whole two years of life and Amarina didn't like it. Finally Irwaddy's lean form appeared and Amarina gave a great whicker of relief and welcome. She walked purposely towards her mother, Irawaddy turned to nudge her affectionately. Curiously, Amarina gazed at this new foal, so like her in appearance.

[Valatone]

Valatone had birthed her foal far from the valley, on the side of the Crackenback. With her new daughter by her side, she felt peaceful. Little Cooma was named after the Sand Banks she was born on, the perlino mare nudged her palamino filly onwards, towards the herd. She had a feeling that this would be scary for her, and so kept close with every stride. The Valley was about half an hour away now, and it could be seen in the distance as they stood on a ridge higher up.

Taking her time with the foal, they were soon hidden amongst the scrub and trees, thickly surrounding them in the lower areas. The mare was usually as silent as a ghost, but with this new foal, her walking was slower and louder, along with the occasional nicker from the foal and mother. Keeping close to the trees, she hoped no stray stallions were around to try and fence them back. It seemed none were coming this time, however, and the trodden old path was quite safe.

Stopping to listen to the occasional whipbird, the two entered the valley and not long after, spotted a herd and some of Valatone's herdmates. Although, she found it hard to keep track of them all and was unfamiliar to some. So, nudging little Cooma onwards, she headed towards the spotted mare Crayola and nickered a quite greeting, spotting a little colt close by her.

"Is he yours?" she asked kindly, looking around for Cooma. "This is Cooma," She introduced her foal, motioning towards her direction. Soon more mares would return, and with that more foals. It seemed the Valley was nearly crowded already! Spotting a bright colt and his mother, and another filly with her mother too, and also the roan stallion's herd.

[Tex]

A dark horse was moving silently along a path that was not well-known by many brumbies, and was therefore not seen by anyone that needed to not notice him. Baiamul was bored, and had been since he was two years old, which was an entire year ago. Playing around with other foals his age had been fun at age 1, and learning how to playfight and cause havoc was fun for one more year. Now he held on to sanity by driving everyone else insane, which is messed up, but no-one ever taught him that.
He halted and watched for a moment, registering the great horde of girls scattered all over the valley floor. His ears flickered back once, but stayed forward after the small twitch. Baiamul didn't like girls very much. And no, he didn't like guys, either. After that hesitation, the black stallion strode around the valley, keeping to the dark walls and the trees, silently aware that his black coat blended with the valley sides extremely well. Once he was in a small pocket of grass behind trees, Baiamul settled down to watch and wait for the right moment to show himself.

OOC- hope you guys don't mind me barging in

[Tiggs]

Omeo was having a delightful time. As more and more mares and their foals converged in the valley, so the bay dun roan’s number of playmates grew! There was no time for boring things like feeding. Always making sure his sister stayed close, he investigated everything, pointing out the most interesting and smelly things to Kaiela. The grass, the rocks, the trees, and every brumby but the black King. Omeo kept a wide birth around him, aware on some instinctual level that this was not his father, and should be treated with caution.

At the sound of a loud greeting, Omeo froze in his adventures, posing rigidly. The colt who owned the voice was not unlike himself. Omeo was paler in body while this other colt had a more chestnut body paired with a pale mane and tail like his mother. Quivering with excitement, Omeo trumpeted his own shrill reply before bounding off on ungainly legs to properly meet his half-brother, his twin sister in tow.


Crayola greeted the mares that came forward, sheltering poor frightened Tinar. She smiled kindly at Muyan and Valatone, gently pushing Tinar into view where he stood spread-eagled and wide-eyed. So many horses! What did he do?! He felt his mother nuzzle his white-peppered rump, and he relaxed a little as his mother kept in constant touch with him. “His name is Tinar,” he heard her say, but he was too busy looking at the congregating group of other colts a little distance away. His ears were held back in apprehension, and he hoped they had not seen him. He did not want to join in their boisterous games, they looked dangerous.

To his horror, Crayola gave him a little shove on his rump and encouraged him to go and play with his brothers. To Crayola, the fact that they shared no common blood did not discount them from being brothers as she had decided when Baree came to her and he was accepted as Prisma, Burnum and Cobalt’s ‘brother’.

Tinar shook his head furiously but when it seemed he had no choice but to move forward, he stumbled off but rather than go to the colts, he stuck himself firmly to Uralla’s side. Crayola seemed pleased, at least, and he relaxed, shoving his head under Uralla’s thin head and sheltering there instead.

Crayola cooed over her son, apparently not worried that he seemed so timid. “Your filly is beautiful! Look how slender she is next to my Tinar!” She said proudly. “What is her name? Why don’t you ask her, Tinar?”

Tinar seemed scared for a moment before he found his voice. “What’s your name?” He asked into his sister’s shoulder where he had snuggled in close. His voice had a hint of nervousness, but he seemed to be content now that he had a friend to nestle against. His voice was soft, even for a colt’s. He sounded more like a filly than a colt, but again, Crayola was proud.

“Good boy.” She crooned, nuzzling his withers. Tinar took his head from under Uralla’s and rested his dainty nose on his mother’s, great big eyes round and trusting. He glanced to Cooma, nickering softly in greeting to the second sister.

“What’s your name?” He asked, taking his prompt from Crayola’s earlier suggestion.

Crayola snuffled his fluffy forelock. “That’s Cooma. Use your ears, little one. Valatone has already told us. Say hello.”

Tinar waggled his stumpy tail eagerly. “Hello.” He said, extending his pink muzzle to his palomino sister.

***

The presence of Camira was soothing, and his nuzzled her as she came up to walk with him. The young palomino was a joy to have around, her sweet nature such a direct opposite to her mother’s. His gaze flickered to Corowa and Amarina, enthused that the grey mare was company for the anxious filly while her mother was gone. Amarina would have to get used to being without her mother soon, but Nandalie was in no rush to encourage her away from the herd.

Wyuna on the other hand he would sorely love to encourage away from the herd. The only good thong to come of her was Camira, whom for if she would not leave her mother, Nandalie would be willing to endure her moody mother.

Nandalie turned at Irawaddy’s voice and whinnied in relief. It seemed she and her new foal were well, and they had returned safely. He felt the tension ease from him as he trotted over and nuzzled his longest-held mare. “I’m glad you’re back.” He said softly, nosing her cheek. He looked around Irawaddy to see the little filly foal. “Hello young one, you are just as bautiful as your mother. What is your name?”

Kiata looked up at the stallion with wide curious eyes. She was a little apprehensive, but her moter had told her not to be worried about meeting her father. “My name is Kiata.” She said sweetly, extending her nose in a polite fashion.

Nandalie nickered in approval and touched noses with her briefly before turning to Irawaddy. “We were just moving up the valley to greet whoever is at the top.” He explained, “It’s not far, are you too tired?” He directed the last at the filly, which shook her head. “Alright then, let’s continue.” He nickered to Baramay and Corowa to signal that they were going on their way and he led the mob around the last bend in the valley.

The sight before him was awe-inspiring. A sea of mares grazed the valley, their foals rushing about in their games. It took a moment of careful study by Nandalie finally spotted the stallion responsible for them all up on a rise on the opposite side of the herd. Considering there were no other stallions, this had to be one big herd and taking into account that this was Yarraman’s Valley, that black stallion could only be the King.

Nandalie gazed over at him, his own head held high but otherwise unthreatening. He dipped his head in greeting and turned to his mares. “It seems we have encountered the King’s herd. Stay close to me, and allow them to approach you. We are the guests here; we will be considerate and polite.” He glanced to Kiata, his expression apologetic. “Unless their mothers allow it, I’m afraid you will not be able to play with the King’s foals.” He addressed the mares in general. “Wait here for now, I will seek an audience with the King.”

Nudging each of their muzzles (with caution when it came to Wyuna), the roan stallion turned and began the long wide journey around the mass of mares, making his way to the black stallion.

[Ehetere]

“His name is Tinar,” replied Crayola proudly, while pushing him out to be shown off. A pale mare arrived with her palomino filly in tow; so Muyan merely nodded politely to them in greeting. She had never before met the mare, and supposed that she was another long lost mare from Tingara’s herd. How he kept track of them all she would never know. Crayola’s poor colt seemed terrified by all of the horses crowding around him, and Muyan once again thought what a fine colt he was.

* * *

Uralla watched curiously as the oddly coloured colt stood trembling in front of his audience. His mother pushed him further forward; either oblivious to or ignoring his discomfort. She herself had no real wish to go running around like a crazed dingo pup that she had seen on her journey over here. It seemed as if Tinar had no intention of joining in either; and perhaps they could go exploring together! Not that Uralla thought that her mother would allow it; but she supposed that they might be able to sneak off while the older horses weren’t watching…

And then Tinar attached himself for her; and stayed as close as a baby possum did to its mother. Uralla gave him a very strange look; wondering what on earth he was doing. But Tinar didn’t see it; instead choosing to shove his head under her own.

Uralla was so shocked by this strange motion that she simply stood there as if she had been struck by lightning for a few seconds. Luckily; Tinar then pulled his head out and asked, “What’s your name?” His mother then commended him for his bravery, and he removed himself from her side. “My name is Uralla,” she replied, more comfortable and not so awkward with her half brother pressing up against her.

Uralla watched even more curiously as Crayola; Tinar’s mother guided him around. It was all very entertaining; since she had inherited Muyan’s habit of only speaking when absolutely necessary. Crayola seemed to be prompting her son to speak out at every possible opportunity. Uralla even snorted in amusement as Tinar seemed not to have been listening when the other pale mare had introduced herself and her palomino filly; a half sister of hers. But luckily; unlike Tinar, Muyan did not urge her to socialize, and Uralla noticed that her mother didn’t do so much socializing herself. But she knew that her mother was listening and remembering, so she tried to do this as well.

[tingara]

It was a good feeling to be back in such familiar country. The valley was as tranquil and secluded as he had left it almost two seasons ago. Tingara the King was back on the rise he had once stood on almost every single day looking over the mass of mares and foals that was his herd. How the number had grown in the past few months. It was funnier to think that a year ago for several weeks he had been in captivity with ropes around his pasterns and head. Then he had fought his rival for everything and won, his gamble had paid off and now here he was with the biggest herd in the High Country. Each mare that followed him was beautiful but some were missing.

Tingara had not expected to have hold of Durroon for long, for she was older than himself and he could tell that Nevada would be the one she would run with until her last season. But Kirrike and Luz were gone and it had left Tingara tempted to search for them, they were rightfully his and if Nevada had taken them back he would be less than impressed, as if his first beating hadn’t gotten through to the white. Alas his herd needed him more than two stray mares, there was no one to look over them while he was gone like there once had been. Aleo the first King had been his ally but he was long gone and Tingara was on his own.

As the black stallion watched over his herd he couldn’t help but get the feeling as though he was being watched from the shadows. His hide prickled uncomfortably as his brown eyes scanned the dark treeline. There was something, he could feel it, but as he couldn’t see anything he was forced to ignore his paranoia. Instead he eyed movement on the edge of his herd; unfamiliar horses had appeared from around the bend in the valley led by a strawberry roan stallion. Tingara thought for a moment on who it could be, there were a few possibilities. From where he stood the new stallion’s body language certainly didn’t look threatening but one could never be too careful.

Instead of crying out a warning Tingara left his hill and made his way through the herd. He stopped to snuffle his new daughters and sons who stood with Valatone, Muyan and Crayola. They had bore him such beautiful children. He threw a glance at the offspring that Nevada had sired, they were fairly handsome but they got that from their mothers’ sides, all of whom were exceptionally pretty. With one last bob of his head Tingara left the mares as quick as he’d appeared, he had a strange stallion to greet.

As the black and red stallion neared each other the black called out in friendly greeting. As far as Tingara was concerned this stranger had given no reason why he should receive a frosty greeting. Although the King was wary his body language was relaxed, only his ears forward and unmoving showed that he was slightly suspicious of the strawberry roan. ”Greetings O stranger, I am Tingara. May I enquire as to who you might be?” the black stallion bobbed his head in a curt, polite greeting to the stranger. ”I apologise if my herd and I have bothered you here in the valley. I was aware of another herd present when we arrived but not had the pleasure of meeting you until now,” he laughed apologetically, motioning to the large amount of horses behind him.

***

Cooma trotted boldly beside her mother as they made their entrance into Yarraman’s Valley. Although inside she was absolutely petrified and overwhelmed at the sheer number of horses of she saw, the filly did a good job at hiding it. When they neared a group of mares, one dark grey and the other incredibly spotty, the palomino’s ears flew forward at once as she spotted her brother and sister. Curiously she sidled up to her brown and white brother her muzzle snuffling through his mane. She nipped and tugged playfully on his ear before moving to her bay sister. To Uralla she did almost the same thing just with a little more force. Although playful, Cooma’s nips and tugs had an underlying dominance to them. She was showing the other filly who was boss.

***

Baramay followed Nandalie obediently and watched him go over to the big black stallion, not really thinking much at all.

[Valatone]

(GEEZ THIS IS SHORT XD)

"Tinar, a fine name" Valatone replied, looking at the little colt. She watched Crayola press him forward gently. He seemed awfully shy, but Valatone found it quite adorable. "Thanks!" She nickered, smiling at the spotted mare, then back down at the foals. Nuzziling Cooma around her short mane, she waited quietly to see if she would be nice.

Hearing Tingara arrive, Valatone turned her head and nuzzled the black stallion in greeting. Soon he turned off and headed towards the red stallion, and the mare went back again to her foal. Glad that she wasn't being too harsh, Valatone looked up to the other mare, who she hadn't spoken to yet. "I'm Valatone," She said in her gentle voice.

Smiling at Muyan and her foal, Valatone ruffled Cooma's mane again. She seemed to be harsh on Uralla, although it seemed that was her personality. With the dominant little foal by her side, Valatone looked over her shoulder and at the sky. It felt a lot later then it actually was and slowly she was tiring.

"What's your daughter's name and yours, dear?" She continued her talk to Muyan, before resting her neck down and grazing a little. It felt great to eat, but she didn't eat too much so she could speak.