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The mare was bedded down next to an empty turtle shell while the ghostly owlcat continued batting and swatting at a fallen black feather. After a long day of searching, a simple game with much amusement was a pleasing reprieve. At least until the familiar prickle came. "This is bordering on ridiculous," she muttered to herself. Ever since she had ascended, she found herself a too bright flame to the expectant, to the hopeful. One long suffering sigh and she then she rose, best to get it over with.

It did not take her long to find the doe although it may have been a strange sight to see a mare appear, mouth holding tight to a turtle shell. And when she did she carefully placed the shell down, contents rattling but unseen. She did not speak, indeed it was often the most fun she had to wait and see what they would do, instead she merely stared. Just as expectant, if not in an entirely different manner, than the doe was.

Manners, humility, were a point in favor of the doe; a vast improvement over that mongrel she had blessed last time. A flash of irritation lit her eyes at the memory and she gave a stamp of her hoof. He'd not find her again if she had anything to say about it. And then she returned to the present, arranging her smile to be softer and perhaps a touch of contriteness lurking in her stance.

"Very few do," she assured the doe. Which was true; really some of these patrons of hers should start to formulate some procedure to these blessings. Until then. "You are expecting children. What do you wish them to be?" she asked, leading the doe.

Thoughtful; another point in her favor. Even if in her haste she forgot what really should be the first and if in great consequence only -- even she in her infinite love of knowledge would bow to it -- blessing: health. The oversight may have been due to nerves or optimism. She was not experienced enough to tell first-time mothers by sight and she could see that sort being overly anxious or blind in love; she left the thought as soon as it bloomed for it was of no great importance.

"You came to the right mare. Intelligence is something I value dearly," a slow smile spread -- in the right light it may have looked quite nefarious. "Intelligence is a given, from me, and so is health," on that word her voice firmed. A very gentle, for her, insistence. "Kindness can be a grave weakness but they shall be perceptive enough to give to those that are in need; knowledge is really all the strength one needs. If it makes you feel better, they're bones shall not break so easily." Words could be weapons, very dangerous ones but they would not harm the doe's children.

"The Motherfather works in ways that even I don't understand," was all she allowed. She was not keen on the idea that the Motherfather was that reaching, manipulative when it came down to it -- a massive spider on a web controlling all around it with a pluck of string -- and she let the thought fall to the back of her mind.

"As is my duty." She was demure in her response; almost unusually so. Perhaps the thought had bled a bit more than intended. As it was, she was reminded she had things to do -- bat bat swat -- and she let her eyes settled on the doe, no longer a touch distracted. "I must be going, farewell." And that was that, as she once more took her turtle shell in mouth and turned, heading off.