I charged, over hill and dale as they say, on my way to the Foaling Field. My breath came quick and fast as I ran, and my legs ached for me to stop, but I didn't notice them. I couldn't. Today I was going to be a father! I demanded my body to allow me to run faster. I felt like I had wings. My heart soared with every stride I took. I was flying.
I skidded to a halt at the border, paused to catch my breath, and continued on at a fast lope. I slightly skidded to a stop by her. "Melody," I whispered. "It's okay, I'm here." I came over and licked her sweat-covered neck, then retreated and watched her swollen belly as contractions rippled across it. I turned to face away from her and spread my pillars out for a brace. My sea-green optics watched the land in front of me fiercely, and I bared my teeth in defiance. No one was coming close to my love. If anyone did come within ten yards of her, I'd rip their throat out, mare, stallion or foal. I was that hyped up, that protective of the new life we had created.
I flicked my auds behind me as I heard a slurping sound. I swiveled my cranium to see her with another form: roan-colored, a mix of ours. I was overjoyed with the foal, turning to nuzzle Melody and then my son. But my joy soon turned to worry: he wasn't moving.