The mother

In the heart of a meadow where light drifted softly through the grass, the white mare stood-silent, yet vatchful. The wind whispered through her long mane, and for a moment, the norld slowed its breath. Beside her, the young foal, with trembling legs and a curious heart, took in its first glimpses of life. The mother said nothing. She didn't need to. Her presence itself was reassurance-a quiet shield between her child and the unknown. Every breath she took was a promise: As long asl am here, the world is a safe place And the meadow, bearing witness to this unspoken vo eathed greener than ever