Hamish

Ink practically fell over her own panicked feet as she approached the silhouette of the community barn. The sun hung low in the dusky sky painting the bruise-purple clouds an unsettling shade of yellow, ruptured by sheet lightning. The earth under her bare feet was damp from the dew, plastering her lower legs with thick tacky mud. The light was clearly on in the smaller barn, where the Saxony-owned horses stayed. It had recently become something of a headquarters for the New Galloway ponies brought in from the rugged areas around the grounds. Despite the lack of actual connections, Edward’s call was still somewhat unsettling though.
She danced her worried jig to the open space holding the newly-tamed ponies who had not yet moved on. She felt her heart fall through the floor. A figure was hunched over in the closest small pen. Breath rising. Not moving.
“Ed?”
He didn’t speak immediately but turned slightly to face her. His eyes were puffy, body seemingly exhausted, weary look all over his face.
“Yeah… she’s gone.”
Her heart had vanished through to the planet’s core and her stomach was catching up.
A mare they had brought in was very heavily pregnant and Ed had been watching her like a hawk for days, they all had. She was well this morning. What now? Edward’s voice cracked as he interrupted her meandering thoughts, shoving her off the path that would have inevitably led to tears.
“Don’t worry, the foal is fine…”
Ink crept closer and peered in over his bulky body, glimpsing possibly the tiniest foal she had seen in her whole equestrian life. At least there was that.

----

The foal was doing well, thanks to their forethought in keeping a little colostrum in their frozen supplies. A few days into his little life, and there was no sign trouble. He was definitely very clingy, not that he knew any better; what can you expect of a little boy who wasn’t sure why his mother walked on two legs and he didn’t.
Ink sat on the floor bottle-feeding the colt. Any chance of getting him to take to another mare had fallen flat on its face due to a big bunch of factors stacked against them. He was incredibly timid for starters and they didn’t have another suitable broodmare, especially considering his size. He was like a gangly puppy, and that was what they had all resigned to.
It was nearly time to get him into his own little box, which Ed had been setting up for his needs in a spare patch of the lab rooms. Ink’s mind darted about aimlessly and she absent-mindedly scratched the foal’s cheek. He didn’t care.

----

The nameless bundle of fluff had no problems with his cotton halter or the ropes they had been using to direct him about. He let his little body into Ink’s care. She exerted surprising strength in carrying the awkward herbivorous puppy to his new home. He was still too young and nervous to use the lead properly for long distances, no matter how adamant he was on sticking to Ink like glue. As she walked, she noticed his true colour was beginning to show through now and he was turning a handsome but pale kind of dun. His little dark muzzle probed her shoulder and hauntingly blue eyes fixed on the floor.
Rory was waiting at a split section of a paddock for him to have a bit of a play and get used to outside before going to his new box. It would do him some good to stretch his legs properly rather than stomping about in a section of the barn.

----

The green waves confused him. They were pretty but they tickled his nose, and made weird noises when they moved. He let his tongue hang out of his mouth as he stared at this big world.
His mother laughed.

----

Rory was having fun watching the little foal run around after Ink. She had persuaded him to play with her and they were jumping around the field like an odd pair of gazelle. The colt’s timid aura had basically disappeared for now, and Ed huffed a sigh of relief as he stared after them.
He was abruptly woken from his stupor as a shout went up from the path. Oh Jesus, what now. The foal was glued to Ink almost as soon as he heard the yelling. He hopped the fence to see what was happening but it soon became apparent when two ponies bounced into the tiny paddock with Ink.
“You two.”
Kitty and Lakshmi charged up to the fence and their jaws nearly hit the floor.
“Care to explain why the Consulting Morons are loose?” Rory hissed at the girls.
“Antics and shenanigans… you know what they’re like.” Kitty shrugged and was just about to hop over to herd them away when the foal ducked from under Ink’s legs. Struck with horror, no one reacted, not even the stallions. Everyone’s heart was in their mouth. But nothing happened.
Ink reached down to bundle the foal away but the kind palomino nosed at him and she froze again.
“John…” Rory said with warning in his voice. The foal didn’t seem to understand everyone’s frustration. Nor did the stallions, really. Sherlock was swishing his tail and pretending to ignore it - really watching with interest - but John was being a sweetheart as usual, chattering to the baby, nuzzling it. The foal wobbled on his legs for a few more seconds, before running a circle around the pair and running back to the cover of his surrogate mother’s legs.
Ink gently scooped up the foal.
She tried to leave the pen but was being followed by the stallions, who were gently nosing at her back and the baby’s legs. It was a little surprising to her, she knew the stallions of the breed were relatively gentle but this was beyond weird.

----

“I know what we should name him.”
“Wha- How?”
Ink was gently shutting the door to the modified vet box, but had whirled around to stare at Rory. He shied away a bit from his perch on the table.
“W-w-well it’s pretty obvious we’d have to eventually put him with the bachelor ponies but I was kind of surprised to have those two of all horses in the world to basically try to mother the poor sod… I mean I've heard of bachelor stallions taking in foals before but-”
“Get on with it.”
Rory basically fell off the table, and backed off a little. He expected to get punched for this.
“Hamish?”
Ink just stared. Rory couldn’t read the stare at all. Was the hint of frown anger or disgust or thinking or… oh Jesus. To his utter amazement, she started giggling. Before long the giggle had evolved into a fully fledged belly laugh, and she steadied herself by gripping his shoulder.
“Oh fuck man, you read way too much fan fiction! But yeah , why the hell not!”
She flounced back over to the box and petted the foal, muttering his new name over and over.

----

He was confused by his not-mother's sudden burst of affection. The two he had met today seemed insistent on caring and that they were like him. He was theirs now, but they were all hers. His little head was spinning and swimming with sensation but not-mother carried on cooing. What was the noise? It felt weird in his ears; a special noise. It was his noise. Was it? ... he was becoming sure it was. It was only for him.
… Hamish.

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guh wow sorry waffle for a bit there.
idk
bored
parentlock
oops.