His rigged stance is met with equal hostility of the bay mare. He is slightly taken aback, as she hadn't been so forward when they had first met. Obviously then he had been more smooth with his words, as the foals at his feet prove this. When Mosrael speaks her tone is almost heartless. His head tips to the side as he watches in confusion as she begins to turn away from them. Quick to leave her own flesh and blood laying upon the cold earth. Helpless and hungry.
He wants to chase after her. Demanding she stays and deals with their offspring, but her mind is clearly made as she continues on with no more than a quick glance. He remains unmoved, even as the fillies begin to stir again. They struggle to find their footing. Too young to chase after their departing parental figure. It was a shame and he took pity upon them. His head lowers to brush along their still damp coats. Silver eyes examining them as his nares breath in their scents and put them to memory. Looking them over his attention falls upon the larger filly. An identical replication of her mother. She is quick to rise but un-use causes her to collapse. There is a strength about her, evident in her determination. A strong personality deserved an even stronger name, "Ketzia." He whispers to her as she looks to him after falling the second time. Weak words come from the tiny form but his heart immediately melts for the lavender speckled girl. "Yes baby, Papa," he replies. His great wings lay loosely at his sides, draping protectively around them.
Silver eyes then find the smaller of the foals sitting upright. Ears twisting within lilac fluffs of mane, trying to figure out what to do next. Their is a softness about the one. An inquisitiveness as she observes her world. Reaching his muzzle to her, his lips press into her neck encouragingly. A foal deserving of an equally endearing name. A moment passes as he thinks of the sea shores and the small inlays of trapped waters along them. He smiles at the name that comes to mind, "Kove," he whispers softly to her. "My sweet baby girls," he says aloud. His head rising to look to where Mosrael had headed...
The mares form is but a speck on the horizon. Saddened by the realization that the girls would perish quickly without the nutrition of their mother, he wonders if he should fly after her. Beg her to stay. He couldn't find the courage though. Not yet. The memory of moments ago fresh in his mind, her hardened gaze upon him. She hated him. Hated him enough to let the twins she bore starve to death. It sickened him to think he had caused this. That his children would die if he didn't do something and quickly...
"MOSRAEL!" His voice is deep and carries great distances. If she would just stop. Just look once again, he'd know if she was set on leaving or if he had a chance, they, had a chance...
@[Mosrael]