Unwavering [Byrch]

[Tiggs]

Mayrah knew the Brindle Bull well, having travelled through even its most impossible tracks. Her first choice for a place to have her foal was thwarted when she realised she simply couldn’t fit down the narrow pathway with her belly so wide. So Mayrah travelled a gentler path, mostly overgrown and not too steep so her newborn foal would be able to follow her back down safely.

Some snow still lingered in the perpetual shadows between rocks, but the sheltered patch of snowgrass that Mayrah lay on now with her wondrous new foal was basked in sunlight. The mare nosed her little brown colt all over, forgetting everything but her son. The bird’s dawn chorus was in full swing, and a family of wallabies grazed not a few paces away, but Mayrah was entranced. His spindly legs, beautiful brown eyes and wisp of a mane and tail; it was all perfect. She just couldn’t believe after all this time, she had a foal of her own.

Nickering softly, the grey mare groomed the star on his forehead, licked the little snip on his nose, and rubbed her muzzle down the dorsal stripe following the line of his spine. Noone would believe that the white mare had once been the same colour as her son, or near enough to make no difference. She wondered if he too would one day be as white as the driven snow. Should she guess ahead and name him for the winter or the snowfall? But what if he did not lighten as she did?

She mussed his mane in thought, glancing up to the wallabies as they went about their business, unperturbed by the mare and foal. They clambered over boulders, nibbling on new shoots and basking in the Spring sunshine. They almost matched the colour of the stone, an earthy brown, odd compared to the usual grey of the rest of the High Country. It even had little black specks in it and on closer inspection, faint swirls like a river eddy. The soft brown of her son’s coat was almost identical, and the mare smiled.

She knew what to call him. Merri, for the stone he was born under. Stone made the High Country. It supported everyone. It was unwavering, unbreakable, and unbeatable. She didn’t know what her son would grow up to be, but there was no doubt in her mind that he would be strong, just like his father. If not in body, then in heart.

“I will name you Merri, my son. My strong boy,” she whickered, and nosed her son playfully. “Come, test those legs of yours little one.” The mare hefted herself to her feet and craned her neck down to encourage Merri to his feet. She instinctively knew it was important for him to be sure on his little hooves as soon as possible. The weather could not be better for spring though, and their little sheltered clearing would be the perfect place for him to take his first steps while she watched over him and grazed.

[byrch]

Cold air bit to his wet skin. The air sent a chill through his tiny body. Though it was a warm day, it felt painfully cold to the newborn colt. Instinct told him he had to breath in, and out. The sensation was strange, but after a few minutes became automatic.

The sun blinded the colt’s new eyes. He made out a dark shape in front of him. Righting himself so his legs were under him, he stretched his neck out to the strange thing. Warm gusts of air flowed onto him, and he relished it, inching his neck out as far as it would go to get more.

Something warm touched his forehead, being gentle but firm, cleaning him. He raised his head a bit, breathing in a scent that had been there before, but he was just beginning to recognize. This scent he would remember all his life, and would be vital to him now. A strange noise came from his throat, a soft nicker, as his mother groomed him. His eyes getting clearer, making out that she wasn’t just a dark shape anymore, but becoming lighter as the minutes went by. The sun and his mothers grooming were starting to dry the colt’s wet fur, and he felt the suns warmth, kissing him like his mother kissed him, giving him strength.

The colt sighed with pleasure as his mother continued to kiss him and groom him, his ears becoming mobile. He turned them toward her, she made strange noises that he didn’t understand, though her voice was beautiful, and calming, so the colt just looked at her. Then she stood, and his heart beat a little faster, thinking she was going to leave him. A high pitch squeal escaped his petite mouth, and he started moving his legs in strange ways. Right front out, left front tucked, both back legs pushing against the ground.

He fell. Trying again, he sprawled all his legs out, and shakily pushed up. Staying up for a few seconds, he scooted his back legs under him more, and toppled over. Grunting softly in frustration, He super sprawled his front legs, and bunched his back legs, and gave another push. This seemed to work better, and he took his first wobbly steps toward his mother, before falling again.

A couple wallabies stopped in their feeding to marvel at the spindly colt, taking his first steps. His mother, ghostly white, almost a phantom, and the colt a bright brown, sure was a strange to see. A few of them chuckled to themselves at his awkwardness.

Taking a bit of a rest, the colt looked up at his mother. From where he was, she seemed huge. Her white coat was becoming more dazzling in his eyes. The world seemed to be growing louder, his hearing becoming better. He heard the light breeze, the snuffling of the wallabies, his mothers gentle calls. Her calls roused him to try again. Taking his tactic of front legs out, back legs tucked, he hoisted himself up, gaining from his experience of what worked and what didn’t. Finally reaching her side, he snuggled against her chest, hearing her heart beat once again.