A black form moved smoothly towards Bel Bel, curious. He'd known that she was close to birthing Sundara's last foal, but he hadn't known how close. Now though, he was all eyes and ears, standing at a respectful distance (he'd known some faes who would have attempted to snap his head off, literally, if he came within half a mile of their new foals, even when they were his), but taking in the new colt as best he could.
He nodded slightly, satisfied with the palomino. Therthis suspected the little one would be flying soon as well as walking. Despite his attempts to hide it, a smile of eagerness crept into his coal-hued face. He loved teaching his winged sons and daughters to fly, and to be able to slip among the clouds with them, no matter how short a time he got to spend with them, before he was whisked away by some other twist of fate.
Thinking of that reminded him for what felt like the millionth time, of Armada and their son, Venom. What would have happened, he wondered, if he had accepted her offer to become king of Inferno Plains? Venom would have been able to spend more time with him, and Armada never would have been hurt by Frenzy. He could have changed so much, he knew...
But he stopped himself, and focused instead on the winged colt. Cautiously, he approached, looking to Bel Bel for permission. "He's certainly his sire's colt. Sundara would be proud of him."