[imgleft]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... uncert.png[/imgleft] The Mothers Club was bustling.

The turning of the season had everyone at work, though Greensinger couldn’t have guessed at what each of them were doing. The kin here all seemed cheerful and though they were clearly busy with their tasks, there was no sense of urgency. They stopped to talk to one another or interacted with the many foals, their happiness and laughter carrying to where Greensinger stood.

He was an outsider looking in on one big happy family and something deep in his gut trembled at the thought being part of it. His own family was a scattered mess and though his grandfather, bless him, did his best, there was no knitting all those loose threads.

An Acha peeled away from one group and approached him, her smile warmer than his own mothers had ever been, her glowing gaze enveloping.

“Can I help you?” She asked, and he imagined this was what it would be like to be a foal again, listening to a soft and comforting voice as you fell asleep. Her question was hardly one at all, it was only perfunctory because he could hear in her words that she could help him and would do so unconditionally.

This was the Legendary he had heard of, the Mother of Mothers.

“I have come to offer my assistance,” he told her, with a respectful dip of his head. “As a healer. If you would have me.”

After his youth spent traversing the swamp, practising his herbal crafts on random kin in need, Greensinger was longing for somewhere to call home. If only for a little while. Just somewhere to soothe his soul until he chose to wander once more.

“Oh,” she said, head tilted, looking slightly surprised, mouth curled in a smile. “I thought you might be here for a blessing.”

His brow furrowed with confusion.

“Of course, you’re very welcome,” she continued. “Your skills are very much in need here.” But she was clearly waiting for something else, despite the warm welcome, watching him with a steady patience.

“My grandmother is a Legendary too,” he blurted out, for something to say, as he took in the knowledge she'd just given him. “But I never met her.”

Peep - oh he remembered her name - smiled.

Greensinger cleared his throat. A blessing. It seemed unfair that he could go about his day without any idea that he was to be a father and now had to continue on knowing he was with nothing to do about it.

He hadn’t known their mother for long. She had seemed nice but would she raise them well? Would they be alone? Would they survive? Would they be happy? What if they got hurt?

He’d come here in search of a new family and discovered he had created one of his own without realizing.

“I may... have to come back another day,” he told the mare, apologetic, already sad to leave.

“I understand. We’ll be here when you return.”

There was something to do about it.

He would seek them out.

Maybe he would bring them back here and give them a warmth his own upbringing had been missing. They could experience the joys of a large family and he would teach them his craft while helping the many who lived here. It sounded ideal.

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

“May the MotherFather guide you and your children be patient and wise, born to give kindness to others.” Peep touched her nose to his, ever so softly. “Go on. I’ll see you again soon.”

And so Greensinger turned and left.