everything we are, it just went away
with a slide of the tongue and a sour taste
Oh, she is in agony.
She thought that she couldn’t possibly be more miserable? She was wrong. Oh, so, so, so wrong. It turns out that there is another layer of miserable she didn’t imagine even possible, and that is the pains of labor. The pain consistently takes her breath away, and as the night progresses with no changes – just contractions – she finds herself crying. Crying for Cress, for Rhaegor, for Kensa, for Ilma, for Clayton, even for Litotes. None of them come, of course – there is little more frightening than a laboring woman – but she cries their names as the night wears on, until she is too exhausted to do much more than lay on her side, praying for the pain to end.
It is near daybreak when the contractions change, and she knows that it must be time. She rests, but only briefly, before her body tells her that she must push; one of her children is ready to make their appearance.
She strains one, two, three, four times, then it is time to take a breath. Again, one, two, three, four, five, and she feels the foal slip from her body, and her body quiets for the time being. Scrambling to her hooves, she moves towards the little cream bundle. She manages to lick the foal – a filly – dry before the contractions begin again, and she smiles and nudges the girl to encourage her to stand while she goes to birth the other child. “Isilme,” she whispers into her daughter’s neck, pride flowing through every ounce of her being.
The second comes quicker, and before can realize it there is another at her feet, lighter but still cream-colored. She takes the time to clean this foal too, delighting to find that she has birthed two girls, and nuzzles the second girl as well. “Austra,” she names her, nudging her to encourage her, too, to stand. Oh, they are perfect. “I’m your momma, girls,” she tells them, eyes aglow with adoration. These are her daughters. Hers. Who would imagine she’d have such perfect girls. Such... wait a minute.
“Well, there’s no denying your father, at least,” she says with a laugh, glancing between them. They both have Lie’s muzzle, speckles with snowflakes that fade into their coat. This will definitely ruin her and Kensa’s friendship when the other woman finds out, she’s sure of it. C’est la vie.
They’re her perfect daughters, and nothing can take that from her.
Dawn
oh, it's gonna be a long night
@[isilme] @[austra]