"It's a beautiful young filly!" The doctor announced, handing Spitfire her newborn foal. The foal had beautiful pale blue eyes, an orange coat and her mane and tail were a deep red and yellow. Her tiny wings were tinged with red at the ends of the feathers. Spitfire looked at her daughter.
"Her name is Fire moon." She spoke, her eyes gleaming with pride for her daughter. Fire moon's eyes flashed in the candlelight, making the blue seem a bright, brilliant blue. The doctor left the room so that the two could have some time alone." Hey there little'un, I'm your mother." Spitfire whispered to Fire moon, whilst she didn't understand what the mare was talking about. Fire cooed in response, smiling at her mother. Spitfire had never been so happy in her entire life.
As soon as as Spitfire was let out from the hospital, she was greeted with an enormous party, courtesy of Suprise. It was only a small party, but it was the thought that counted. Spitfire's only way of getting out from the party was when she said that she had to put her daughter to bed. Everyone quieted down and let the new mother ease her foal onto her back and take her upstairs. As Spitfire was laying Fire moon into the cot, her eyes welled up with tears." I'll miss you, my special filly!" She knew that despite what her friends said, she would have to let someone else take care of her child, though she only wondered who...
10 months ago...
"You won't be able to keep her, Spits!" Soarin pleaded, his oldest friend glaring at him, her eyes on fire. Spitfire was going to have a foal, and even though she knew that she would most likely have to get an abortion, she wouldn't give up trying to convince Soarin that she would be fine with a foal. She was already a month into the pregnancy, and her friends and family kept asking if she was pregnant, to which she gave no answer.
"I'll be fine!" She spat back, her words tinged with venom.
"No you won't, Spitfire, not with flying and the wonderbolts!" He yelled back, turning around and walking out of the cloud house. Spitfire huffed, her face still red from the arguing. She knew she shouldn't exhaust herself, so she went to the snowfridge, snatched a snowcone out and sat down on the couch. Spitfire thought about the next ten months, shuddering at the idea of not being able to fly.
"I wonder when to tell the others?" She asked herself, pondering out loud. Spitfire crunched on the snowcone, giving her brain freeze."I guess I better get to bed, after all, I still need to practice the banana split and corkscrew whirl routine with the others." She decided, clambering off the couch and onto the floor. Spitfire hauled herself up the stairs, entered her room and flopped onto the bed, fast asleep.
