10-08-2018, 10:48 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-08-2018, 10:49 AM by Disastardly.)
The devil nudged her a few times, but Dizzy was too far gone to open her eyes, too far gone to do anything more than twitch uselessly and blow out a soft huff of protest. He lost interest eventually and left her to die, and Dizzy had just enough fight left in her to drag that death out as long as possible.
She didn’t notice the contractions, drowned out as they were in a sea of agony, all her pain nerves firing desperately, furiously, as if her brain couldn’t already tell she was in trouble. Stripped bare, burned flesh oozing, pieces of her burned skin left lying on the ground, strewn about like discarded wrapping paper the devil had peeled free of her flesh. Bruised, battered, brutalized beyond recognition, there was barely enough left of her to push a tiny surprise baby out of her, and even his small body scraping against her burned insides was enough to overwhelm her senses and cause her vision to fade out for a long moment.
Maybe she was bleeding to death. It would makes sense. She’d thought he’d cauterized all her wounds to make her last longer, but maybe he hadn’t bothered the last time. Morbid curiosity forced one eyelid open, and she panted and fought to raise her head to see…
A baby?
She was delusional. It was the only real explanation she could think of. Pain had made her insane, and she’d started to hallucinate. Except the bundle of baby made a grumpy little squeak and flailed a little, fighting almost as hard as she was to raise its head and look at her.
If she could have, she might have scrambled to her feet, reared up and crushed its perfect little face beneath her hooves. She could imagine it, the way it would crunch and splatter, spurting blood and brain and bits of skull bursting from its skin as its body spasmed and went still. It would be kinder, ending its life before the devil could find it.
Before it could look at her.
The self-pity in that last pathetic thought would have been enough to stop her, if she'd been able to get to her feet anyhow. She let her head fall to the ground and just kept breathing as the baby grunted and protested with an angry little snort, clearing its nostrils and huffing impatience all at once.
A good mother would have found her way to her feet, cleaned her baby off, helped it to rise and nurse. She was no good mother. Even as the baby scrambled to stand she lay still, stubbornly dragging in breath after ragged breath. She might have blacked out again for a moment, because the next thing she new it was touching her cheek with a gentle little brush of its muzzle. She snorted and jerked, eyes wide and staring up at--oh. Yes. Baby. Not the devil. And clearly not the devil’s either, not with a black coat splashed with Dov’s bold, starry blue.
Two pairs of dark eyes met, one rich brown and the other verging on black. She stared at the baby and just breathed for a long moment, memorizing that face just in case it was the last thing she saw. Given half a chance, it would grow up beautiful, she could see that in the lines of its face, the gorgeous play of color across its coat. So damn striking, and her weary eyes traced the pattern across its skin, wandering idly. It even had little baby winglets peeking out of its back, all covered in fluffy black baby down.
God, and its dad’s lip spot, a splash of blue and white that crashed up against the black at the corner of its mouth, making her stupid heart skip a beat in her chest. Well, that or her heart was failing, always a possibility too. Little of a, little of b, maybe? Who could even tell. Probably she wasn’t gonna make it long though, not at this point. So she raised her head to touch the baby gently with what used to be the velvet softness of her nose.
“Defy,” she murmured with a broken voice, and she wasn’t quite sure if it was a name or a command.
But the baby nodded, huffed out a breath, and flicked its ears back in the cutest little grumpy expression that looked so damn much like its daddy. “Mine,” it demanded, and this time the word washed over her and eased the pain just a little, setting a piece of the world to rights.
She nodded slowly and murmured agreement. “Yours.” Let out her slow, shaky breath and answered, “and you’re mine,” and pressed a soft little kiss to the spot at the corner of its lip.
“Duh.” Its sassy tone coaxed a hoarse little laugh out of her as her eyes drifted closed again, vision fading out on the sight of her little one standing guard over her, wobbly legs splayed, ears pinned as it looked around, dark eyes watchful and wary.
She didn’t notice the contractions, drowned out as they were in a sea of agony, all her pain nerves firing desperately, furiously, as if her brain couldn’t already tell she was in trouble. Stripped bare, burned flesh oozing, pieces of her burned skin left lying on the ground, strewn about like discarded wrapping paper the devil had peeled free of her flesh. Bruised, battered, brutalized beyond recognition, there was barely enough left of her to push a tiny surprise baby out of her, and even his small body scraping against her burned insides was enough to overwhelm her senses and cause her vision to fade out for a long moment.
Maybe she was bleeding to death. It would makes sense. She’d thought he’d cauterized all her wounds to make her last longer, but maybe he hadn’t bothered the last time. Morbid curiosity forced one eyelid open, and she panted and fought to raise her head to see…
A baby?
She was delusional. It was the only real explanation she could think of. Pain had made her insane, and she’d started to hallucinate. Except the bundle of baby made a grumpy little squeak and flailed a little, fighting almost as hard as she was to raise its head and look at her.
If she could have, she might have scrambled to her feet, reared up and crushed its perfect little face beneath her hooves. She could imagine it, the way it would crunch and splatter, spurting blood and brain and bits of skull bursting from its skin as its body spasmed and went still. It would be kinder, ending its life before the devil could find it.
Before it could look at her.
The self-pity in that last pathetic thought would have been enough to stop her, if she'd been able to get to her feet anyhow. She let her head fall to the ground and just kept breathing as the baby grunted and protested with an angry little snort, clearing its nostrils and huffing impatience all at once.
A good mother would have found her way to her feet, cleaned her baby off, helped it to rise and nurse. She was no good mother. Even as the baby scrambled to stand she lay still, stubbornly dragging in breath after ragged breath. She might have blacked out again for a moment, because the next thing she new it was touching her cheek with a gentle little brush of its muzzle. She snorted and jerked, eyes wide and staring up at--oh. Yes. Baby. Not the devil. And clearly not the devil’s either, not with a black coat splashed with Dov’s bold, starry blue.
Two pairs of dark eyes met, one rich brown and the other verging on black. She stared at the baby and just breathed for a long moment, memorizing that face just in case it was the last thing she saw. Given half a chance, it would grow up beautiful, she could see that in the lines of its face, the gorgeous play of color across its coat. So damn striking, and her weary eyes traced the pattern across its skin, wandering idly. It even had little baby winglets peeking out of its back, all covered in fluffy black baby down.
God, and its dad’s lip spot, a splash of blue and white that crashed up against the black at the corner of its mouth, making her stupid heart skip a beat in her chest. Well, that or her heart was failing, always a possibility too. Little of a, little of b, maybe? Who could even tell. Probably she wasn’t gonna make it long though, not at this point. So she raised her head to touch the baby gently with what used to be the velvet softness of her nose.
“Defy,” she murmured with a broken voice, and she wasn’t quite sure if it was a name or a command.
But the baby nodded, huffed out a breath, and flicked its ears back in the cutest little grumpy expression that looked so damn much like its daddy. “Mine,” it demanded, and this time the word washed over her and eased the pain just a little, setting a piece of the world to rights.
She nodded slowly and murmured agreement. “Yours.” Let out her slow, shaky breath and answered, “and you’re mine,” and pressed a soft little kiss to the spot at the corner of its lip.
“Duh.” Its sassy tone coaxed a hoarse little laugh out of her as her eyes drifted closed again, vision fading out on the sight of her little one standing guard over her, wobbly legs splayed, ears pinned as it looked around, dark eyes watchful and wary.
@[Dovev]