the firestarters always get the burns
and the good guys never get the girl
She left the other mare as little time to think about it as possible; that seemed the best thing to do, considering how fearful she looked. Ilma noted the small, but terrified-looking shake of the cremello mare's head with wonder - but it was something she stored for later. Right now, they had bigger fish to catch.
She moved around the cremello pegasus carefully, clearing bits of dirt, rocks and sharp branches away just in case. Keeping one ear and whenever possible also an eye on the other mare, it seemed that the birth itself was pretty normal. When the foal was half-out, eyes still closed, Ilma removed the leftover amniotic sack from the baby's face but otherwise did not come near again, or at least not in a touching-distance-matter, until the winged mare looked up to find her. Then, the white woman smiled back at her. "You did great. And she's lovely." Sky blue in base, and clouds upon her in a familiar pattern, Ilma could only wonder.
The filly made some standing attempts, and fell down a few times - Ilma kept an eye on her, but she seemed lively enough, and she would get the hang of it soon. She wondered what should be her name -
about that... she chuckled softly and addressed the new mother. "I didn't catch your name yet. And what about her?" she asked. Surely it would be helpful if she knew how to call them. The other prying question... could wait one more round.
@[Nymf]