Ruby had settled in splendidly in her new herd, with her new mate - so brave, so strong. So, so handsome. Beautiful, even, in the right light (predawn was her favorite, with the dusky pinks and oranges just barely creeping over the treetops. It made him look like magic. And he treated her so well, and made her so happy.
She wanted to give him everything.
Namely: children.
She had never thought of herself as a mother, especially - children were so loud and so messy - but with Vira? It seemed so natural. So obvious it was barely worth discussing.
Vira was patient and respectful, of course, and Ruby was keenly aware that he already had daughters with his former mate (at least it was with a former mate, and not some...random mare, Ruby thought, in her more uncharitable moments). She didn't want to rush him, or force anything upon him or his daughters; she wanted his daughters to like her, if not love her (someday). She didn't want them to think of her as an interloper, and she never wanted to take their father from them.
It had occurred to her recently, though, that she hadn't really....asked...Vira himself if he wanted more children. As obvious as it seemed to her, it might not be so self-evident to him. If he didn't...well, she loved him, and she would simply do her best to be the best secondary mother to his daughters as she could (and, she reminded herself, that way she would get to skip the mess part).
Never one to shrink from fear, Ruby approached her mate one evening, after meals were over and jobs had been done, and nuzzled lightly against him. She would ask him his thoughts tonight, one way or the other, and then once they were on the same page...she could start making the appropriate arrangements immediately.
Immediately.
((WC: 311))
Fatal Irony
