the 3 part of The First Snowfall
Elias froze, his hand stilling on the knife he’d been sharpening by the fire. The faint sound of peeping reached his ears again, soft and fragile, coming from the direction of the storage room. He frowned, setting the blade aside and standing up. The firelight cast long shadows across the walls as he made his way toward the noise, boots creaking on the wooden floor.
The storage room was cold and dimly lit, the air heavy with the faint metallic tang of frost and death. Elias swung open the door, his breath visible in the chill as he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room, quickly falling on a small bundle of fluff nestled among the lifeless forms of frozen foals he’d brought back earlier.
The tiny fluffy foal was trembling violently, its white fur blending almost seamlessly with its cold surroundings. Its wide, glassy eyes blinked up at him as it let out another weak peep. A sound coming from something so small and desperate that it almost didn’t seem real.
Elias crouched down slowly, his cold hands reaching out to scoop up the fragile creature. It flinched at first, its legs kicking weakly in protest before going still in his palm.
“You’re alive,” Elias murmured, his voice gruff but quiet. The foal’s fur was icy to the touch, its body far too light—little more than skin and bones beneath its fluffy exterior. “Barely.”
He studied it for a moment longer before sighing deeply. “Let’s see if she’ll take you.”
Elias turned and headed back into the main room of the cabin, cradling the tiny foal against his chest. In one corner of the room stood a series of small pens he’d built for fluffies—makeshift enclosures meant to keep them contained and safe while he decided their fates.
One pen housed a pregnant mare—a fluffy with a round belly and soft fur. She had been part of a group he’d captured weeks ago but had been spared due to being pregnant. Despite her captivity, she remained surprisingly cheerful and docile, often humming little tunes to herself or talking softly to her unborn babies in her warm voice.
Elias approached her pen and crouched down beside it, holding out the trembling foal for her to see. The mare’s ears perked up immediately, her wide eyes lighting up with excitement as she pressed herself against the bars of the pen.
“Wha’ dat?” she asked eagerly, her voice high-pitched and filled with curiosity. “Wittwe babbeh? Wittwe babbeh fo’ Soon Mama?”
“Maybe,” Elias said as he opened the pen door and placed the foal gently on a bed of tattered rags inside. “If you can keep it alive.”
The mare gasped dramatically, her little hooves tapping excitedly on the wood ground as she leaned down to sniff at the tiny creature. “Wittwe babbeh so cowd!” she exclaimed, her tone shifting to one of concern. “Why babbeh so cowd? Mama wiww hewp babbeh! Mama make babbeh wawm!”
Elias stepped back and watched silently as the mare went to work caring for the foal with surprising tenderness and efficiency. She began licking its fur vigorously with her small tongue, cleaning away any frost and warming its tiny body with her own heat.
The foal let out a soft chirp of contentment as it snuggled closer to her side, its trembling gradually subsiding under her care. The mare hummed softly as she worked, a soothing tune that seemed instinctual rather than learned.
“Dere,” she said proudly after a few minutes, nuzzling the foal affectionately. “Babbeh aww bettah now! Mama wuv wittwe babbeh!”
Elias crossed his arms as he leaned against a nearby wall, observing them closely. He had seen fluffies reject or neglect orphaned foals before—especially when resources were scarce—but this mare seemed genuinely determined to care for this one despite her own condition.
He smirked as he said “How interesting”
Later that evening, Elias returned to check on them again during feeding time. He placed a small bowl of seeds and dried berries inside the pen for the mare—a modest ration that had kept her alive thus far—and watched as she immediately began nudging pieces toward the foal with her nose.
“Here,” she said softly in her simple way of speaking, pushing a mushy dried berry closer to it. “Babbeh eat dis! Make tummy happi!”
The foal pecked at it eagerly but struggled to eat much due to its weakened state. Its tiny mouth wasn’t strong enough to break through.
Elias frowned slightly before heading back into the kitchen area of his cabin. He soaked a piece of stale bread in warm water until it softened enough for the foal’s tiny mouth to handle and returned with it moments later.
Crouching down beside their pen again, he held out small pieces for the foal to eat directly from his hand.
“Here,” he said gruffly as it nibbled at them hungrily. “It’s not much, but it’ll do.”
The mare watched him intently as he fed her adopted baby, her eyes wide with gratitude.
“Mama say tank yoo,” she said earnestly after a moment, bowing her head slightly toward him.
Elias blinked at her in mild surprise before shaking his head with a faint smirk.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered under his breath as he stood up again.
As night fell outside and snow continued to drift lazily past frosted windows, Elias found himself lingering near their pen longer than usual—watching as they settled down together for sleep.
The mare curled protectively around the foal like a living blanket while humming softly under her breath a quiet lullaby.
“You’re lucky she took you,” Elias said quietly from where he stood nearby, his voice barely audible over their soft breathing.
The foal chirped faintly in response from within its warm nest beside her.
Elias shook his head slightly before turning away toward his cot by the firelight.