A gentle ambience surrounded the birth of a new foal, however there were no soft gazes and small smiles to greet its waking presence. The air was cold, and the ground was equally so as the fillies eyelids slowly parted. What little light escaped from a singular nearby torch illuminated some of her surroundings as she lifted her head and soon- the rest of her body. The first scent that graced her nose was a strong iron, and the first color she could make out that painted her side and dripped down her coat as she stood; was red.

Where was she ?

Who was she ?

And what was this strong feeling she felt gnawing at her gut.