Chapter Twelve
The sun was low on the horizon when Collin pulled up to Rosings. He was still covered in horse membrane and placenta, but he felt a sense of accomplishment from bringing a new life into the world.
It was his favorite thing to see a new foal take its first steps on new terrain. The small horse had wobbled on its bony legs. Then it had stood tall to look out on its new domain.
The animal was perfect. A beautiful coat of midnight. Bright, intelligent eyes. A white starburst on its forehead, like it knew it was destined for greatness.
He would fetch a pretty penny when he came of age. His mother, on the other hand, was literally on her last legs. As Collin was prescribing a rest and rehabilitation regiment for the mother, who still hadn't gotten up to stand, the Coppins were
