Chapter Two: Doom's Foal
I sighed raggedly as I looked around River Herd. One certain pregnant mare stared at me sourly. Her name was Ryefeather. For some unknown reason, she seemed to hate me, but couldn't leave River Herd because this is where her mate and her originated from, and she wanted to raise her child in the right place. Ryefeather was not the most attractive mare in the world to some, she had ash grey feathers, and was a sooty buckskin, giving off the idea that her coat looked like it was covered in ash. The real reason her mate, Moonstark, had fallen for her was because of her cunning mind. She was wicked smart, clever, and sly. She was going to give birth around tonight, and Thymeberry (Yay, one of my OC'S!), our medicine mare, was going to keep an eye on her.
Thymeberry's POV (Later that night)
Ryefeather grunted, and I knew she was going into labor. I gave her a stick to bite on when it came time for her to push. "When I tell you to push, push!" I tell her softly, and she grunts, nodding.
~A few hours later~
Finally, the young foal slipped out. I gasped in shock, staggering back. Ryefeather blinked blurrily at me. "What's wrong, is the foal alright?" She asked in a raspy voice. I nodded. "Congratulations, Ryefeather. You have birthed this century's black foal." I said softly, turning the new mother to see. She gasped. The young filly was all black, everything, except her hooves, which were normally colored. Well, until she received her Starfire. "Her name shall be Despair." Ryefeather said. I shuddered, going to tell Star that the next foal of fate had arrived at last.....