Bow walked home, slowly, next to Windy, their tails entwined, from the doctor’s office along cloudy paths under a clear sky.
“A filly,” Bow said, for probably the tenth time (or was it hundredth time? he thought). “We’re gonna have a filly.” Each time he said that, the smile came back to his face. It felt good to smile. There had been precious little to smile about. “Holy horses,” Bow said, the smile staying, seeming permanently etched on his face. “I have no idea what I’m doing and I couldn't be happier.”
Windy put a wing around her husband. “Relax, flyboy. You’ll do fine.”
Bow chuckled, deeply and happily. “You know I had only brothers. No sisters. I’m literally going to be flying blind here. I am in so much trouble… and I do not care.”
Bow felt Windy’s wing grip his barrel chest. “So… I was thinking about names for a filly…”
That was enough to scramble him. “Uh… I… was… I mean, whatever you’re happy with. I mean, no frame of reference here…”
Then Bow saw the smile come to Windy’s face, as wide as the sky. “I was thinking… Rainbow… Dash.”
Bow stopped dead in his tracks, and he looked at his wife, a hundred billion thought racing. “I… I couldn’t… I wasn’t… I mean… if you’re sure. You’d… you’d be fine with it?”
Windy nodded. “I would. I am.” She kissed Bow on the cheek. “I can’t think of a better tribute. She’s gonna have the best dad. And the best guardian, watching out for her from above–”
It was all Bow could do to embrace his wife, holding her and never letting her go. “Thank you,” Bow whispered, over and over and over again.