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- #521
Ivy woke and rose again, nudging the foals awake. "Come, little ones," she whispered. The colt got up without much trouble, but the filly lay there. Ivy, worried, pushed her with her nose. "Please, get up," she begged. She hoped no one would come. She was tired, irritable, and embarrassed. The filly refused to rise. Finally, in desperation, Ivy pushed her nose underneath the foal's belly and lifted her to her feet. The filly wobbled a moment, but with Ivy supporting her, was able to stand. Then Ivy led the two foals out of the Farther Pastures, toward the Main Grounds. The three horses made slow work, but at least they were getting someplace. Ivy whispered soothing, encouraging words to the struggling filly. Finally they made it out of the tall grass and into the shorter, close-cropped vegetation. Flip did not see them - he slept on underneath the big willow. When Ivy had reached the shade of the tree she collapsed, nearly letting the filly fall. Only then did Flip notice them. He heard their noise and rose to investigate. "The colt looks strong, Ivy. How well did he stand?" Flip always critiqued the foals before praising them. Ivy nodded. "He was up in three or four tries." Flip then looked at the filly, who lay gasping beside Ivy. "She's a weakling. I can tell just by looking. Almost ugly." Ivy blushed, embarrassed. "I had to support her all the way here," she told him. "She wouldn't get up on her own." "What will you name them?" Flip asked. Ivy thought for a moment. "The colt, Dappledsnow. The filly... Achillia - filly of pain."
