*Phantom The Arabian*
The thunder lit the sky momentarily before vanishing, the rain pelting down across the farm violently. "Is it born yet?" Whispers Anna excitedly, shuffling around as she is too small to see over the stall door. "No, not yet." Replies Catherine quietly. The mare lay nervously in her stall, flaring her nostrils, stressed. The lightning buzzed, causing Anna to jump. "Maybe you should go to bed, it's late." Catherine suggests, noticing Anna's bloodshot eyes. "Never! I am not tired. I want to be here when the foals born." Anna snaps, crossing her arms. Catherine smiles and kneels down, looking Anna in the eye. "I know you want to be here, I do to! It's just that it might not be born tonight.. How about we both get some rest?" Catherine smiles, kissing Anna on the forehead lightly. "But.." Anna protests. Catherine shakes her head and presses her finger against Anna's lips. "Let's go" She whispers quietly. Anna narrows her eyes and grunts. Catherine stands up swiftly, and scoops Anna up onto her shoulder, leaving the barn and heading back to the farmhouse. "It's cold and dark, will the horse be alright mummy?" Anna whispers worriedly, shivering. "She will be fine. I promise." Catherine replies, smiling a little. She helps Anna into her pajamas and braids her long, brown hair quickly. "It's scary! I don't want to sleep alone.." Anna whispers to Catherine as they walk down the creaky corridor. "It's just a storm, darling." Catherine chuckles, lifting Anna up so she can brush her teeth. "Humph." Mutters Anna, with a mouthful of foaming toothpaste. Catherine walks Anna back to her room and tucks her in, kissing her forehead gently. "Now, go to sleep." Catherine whispers softly. "Fine" grumbles Anna, turning over and closing her eyes. Catherine grins and flicks off the dim light, closing the door. She tiptoes downstairs and pulls on a raincoat, dashing back out to the barn. Catherine removes her soaked hood and peers over the stable door. "Hey Midnight" whispers Catherine, greeting the charcoal, black mare. Catherine slips into the stall and kneels down beside Midnight, stroking her damp neck, oiled with sweat. Catherine grabs a towel and rubs the sweat off of Midnight quickly, kidding her velvet muzzle and standing up swiftly. She smiles and props herself onto a hay bale, listening to the storm. "This is going to be a long night." She whispers to herself quietly, sighing.