The Woodjin: Teamwork, by Lbilover

Originally written in 2011 for the Makeout Meme.


"How is she?" Sean asked tensely.

Elijah set aside the towel he’d been using to dry the foal, and laid a gentle hand on the mare’s belly. He closed his eyes, and after a moment said, "Fine. She’s fine, Sean. Just tired."

"God, I’m so relieved. My first equine breech delivery. I feel like I should be handing out cigars." Sean was grinning as he wiped streaks of sweat from his face.

"I expect carrots might be more appropriate," Elijah said, grinning back.

"Okay then, carrots."

Later, with the mare on her feet and competently mothering her baby, they stood side by side and watched as the foal, following the imperative of his kind, gathered his spindly legs beneath him and rose shakily to join her. He stood there, legs splayed, swaying a little as he looked around him.

"Is he as amazed as he seems?" Sean asked.

Elijah nodded. "Totally blown away."

Sean huffed a laugh. "So am I."

The foal took a few tentative steps through the straw. His mother whickered and nosed him, guiding him gently toward her flank. Within moments, he’d found a teat and was eagerly nursing, his stubby tail vibrating.

"The miracle of birth - it never gets old."

"Without you there might not have been a miracle. She never could have foaled on her own." Elijah leaned in and kissed Sean softly. "Thank you, Dr. Astin."

"How could I fail? I had the Woodjin at my side," Sean replied, and kissed him back.

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