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We are the warriors; birthing (covet/shah/anyone really) - Librette - 05-02-2015
RE: We are the warriors; birthing (covet/shah/anyone really) - Covet - 05-03-2015 Covet does not pretend to be all knowing, nor does he pretend to have any sort of magic in his bones. If he did, well, he'd have found a way to strip himself of his bones. Magic was a disgusting force, poisonous and toxic and venomous and...frankly, it made his skin crawl. He is, however, capable of simple math. Librette should foal any day now. Covet is not so astute to notice the extra weight, nor the way she carries herself. He doesn't understand birthing or foaling - just the initial steps. Child rearing? Nope. He sees Librette fly overhead and he knows. It's mathematically time. Why else would she retreat so deep into the woods? So he takes his time - picking through the trees and the brush, traversing the walls and marrow of the valley. When he's finally arrived so many hours later he's missed the worst (best?) part. -------------- Of course a child of Covet would be so stoic, so orange-eyed, so unnatural. From the moment her dainty, childish hooves hit the ground it was obvious. She was chestnut like her mother, a spitting image of the Valley-loving woman. You passed over her markings - striking images of her mother - with the hint of the sinewy muscles of foalhood. She could have been her mother, truly, if it weren't for those eyes. Unnatural orange, and unnaturally vacant. There were, of course, other aspects of her father. When she lands on the ground, when she's truly in this world, she lands unnaturally. Death should have come right then, it should have brought her to the afterlife before she took her first breath, but it didn't. She healed instantly, readily, and blinked against the realization. A normal child would have seen it as a way of life, Thorunn knew it was unnatural. She knew, suddenly and deeply, that she was not like the others. And if Eight appeared to read her mind? He'd hear nothing. She turns to her mother then, watching the other come. She is a mirror, and if Thorunn knew her eye color she'd see that very little separated them. She nudges her sister - hello friend. We are out, we are free, we are here! And she nurses, and she's content. ------------------- Covet steps from the shadows, examining. Two fillies. Fillies. Had he hoped for a colt? For a strong likeness of him? Both of these girls were Librette's deep chestnut. One turns to look at him, her orange eyes critical and unnerving. The other? She is not so vacant, and Covet is at once taken. He sees Aranea, he sees himself, and he sees Librette. That is what he wanted, isn't it? A strange sensation creeps through his blood. It's as if he's hot and cold at once, but it passes and he's himself again. Changed, perhaps, just a little - he attributes it to the orange eyed daughter. "Have you named them?" he asks. No: how are you? No: can I help with anything? No, not Covet. Not them. ----------------- The orange eyed filly looks to the black stallion, and she's uninterested. He is old, he is scarred - but these mean very little to her. She doesn't know what the roadmap on his body says. She does like his orange eyes, they're strange. RE: We are the warriors; birthing (covet/shah/anyone really) - Valkerine - 05-03-2015 Her first impression is that the world is...well...big. She slips out easily, a contrast to the almost-disaster of her sister's birth, and everything is large. For the longest time it's been just them, just warmth and closeness, snuggled up together. But now she's here and it's big, but that's okay because she is still here, nudging her, helping her get up. And she does, a goofy, sweet, grin on her face. And so it is established that they are mirrors, so very close in appearance, but so very different in personality. Where Sister has eyes like hot pumpkin (you're welcome), she has eyes of a sweet brown. Where Sister looks with disinterest and judgment, to her, the whole world is her playground, and she can't wait to go roll around in all the mud. But for now, it's time to nurse, and so she does. ------- She is grateful that Covet happens upon them after she's given birth. She really just is not comfortable with the process herself, and she'd probably have tried to kill him if he'd tried to play spectator. But she's fine with him being here now - just so long as he doesn't expect them to play happy family. Librette is not very good at that game. But he isn't, he doesn't, and his almost clinical detachment suits her just fine. They'd had a deal, after all. He'd made her a proposal and she accepted. "Yes." she answers his question, figuring that that's a thing she probably should've done, because he's asking about it. Maybe he'll imagine that she whispered their names tenderly in their ears right after birthing. Or whatever it is good mothers do. "Thorrun and Valkerine." She's surprised at how easily the names come to her lips. Maybe she's had the names in her mind all along? Realizing that she hasn't defined which one is which, she indicates her head toward the filly with the brown eyes. "Valkerine." She indicates the filly with the orange eyes. "Thorrun." she pauses for a moment. "She's got your eyes. And I think your other traits too. The way she landed when she came out...wasn't right. But she's fine now." She adds the last part hurriedly, although it's perfectly obvious that the girl is up and nursing. ------- The world is not just her and Sister and Mommy anymore. There's a black stallion now, but Mommy seems okay with it, so she supposes she is too. Sister seems unconcerned with this whole thing, but to her, she's quite interested. What else will this world throw at them? She wants to see all of it. She is about to step away from Mommy, to step toward the stranger, but then Mommy says something and deep in her heart she knows it's something important. She doesn't entirely understand what a Name means yet, but the stallion seems to think it's important, and so does Mommy, so she's going to listen. Apparently, they each have a Name, and Sister's is Thorrun and hers is Valkerine. Valkerine, she thinks, and she smiles. She likes it. She bumps her sister with her nose. "Thorn!" she says with great enthusiasm, trying (and absolutely failing) to pronounce the name that Sister has just been given. She giggles, coughs adorably in the process of clearing her throat, and then tries again. "Thor run." it's two words where it should be one, but she's getting the idea. She grins. Learning of names completed, she decides it's time to investigate the stallion, making it obvious that she has little common sense and no fear. With a quick touch oh her nose to Sister (Thorrun, she reminds herself, although she knows it probably won't ever replace Sister), she moves away from Mommy. Walking on wobbly filly legs, she moves over so that she's standing almost directly in front of him, comically tiny and small in comparison to him. She looks him over, as seriously as a tiny filly can, and decides to use that word that he and Mommy seemed to think was so important. "Name?!" it's both a demand and a curious question, both question mark and exclamation point, all rolled into one. But she doesn't keep up the seriousness for very long, and her face splits into a sweet filly grin, brown eyes crinkling up in amusement in a way her mother's never have. RE: We are the warriors; birthing (covet/shah/anyone really) - Alptraum - 05-03-2015
All things are possible: - Shahrizai - 05-04-2015 all things are possible even the worst of things He’s pretty sure that she is testing him. Well, kind of sure. Of course, she had looked very pregnant. Regardless of whether this is a test or not though, he will pass. He watches her fly away, dark ears forward in earnest attention. He starts forward, following her direct path above the earth via a much less direct path through the Valley’s landscape. He picks his away around rocks and trees, attempting as best he can to follow where she had gone. In the end, it’s really not that difficult, especially for one who had grown up in the Jungle. Of course, it’s pretty difficult to have terrain more twisted and confusing than the sticky, humid, overgrown land that he been born in. So it does not take him long (by his standards) to find where she had gone. He hears them first, alert ears picking up the sound of shuffling followed by voices. The scent of birth hits him quickly afterwards. So it probably hadn’t been a test after all. Finally she comes into view, that plain chestnut mare that he had made such an unlikely friendship with. He sees immediately that, apparently, he is late to the party. When he sees the two little fillies nuzzling at their mother, a happy smile splits his features as the others are quickly forgotten. Heedless of the danger (he knows that a mother’s instincts are not something to be trifled with), he moves easily through the small group to approach the two young fillies, large head lowered. A mixture of awe and curiosity suffuses his features as his dark muzzle brushes against the back of the tiny brown-eyed filly. He marvels at how small and delicate both girls are (especially when compared to his decidedly large frame), and a sudden surge of protectiveness rises within him. He pauses to briefly snuffle the orange-eyed filly before lifting his dark head, a silly grin upon his lips. His chocolate colored eyes find Librette’s own as he reaches forward to give her an affectionate nudge as well. You would have twins. shahrizai RE: We are the warriors; birthing (covet/shah/anyone really) - Covet - 05-05-2015 His orange eyes are still focused on the other orange-eyed creature - Thorunn. He likes the sound of it, it sounds of strength. The way she stares at him, those eyes so curious yet so bland, turns his heart a bit. He will teach her everything he knows...and Val too. They are two heads of the same coin, and perhaps together they will create the heir he'd always dreamed of. No more sad mistakes wandering the world in their lost hopelessness. These were his true masterpiece. He wonders, briefly, if Librette feels the same way. He watches as Val bumps noses with her sister, who hesitantly returns the gesture. "Val." Her reply is short and sweet, and she seems very assured in her answer. Yes, just Val, much like she will always be Sissy. Thorunn watches her twin wander to Covet with the same passive look she's given everyone else. She is not so curious, content instead to watch her sister make friends. "I am Covet, your father," he says, and for once his voice isn't that sickening bland gravel of a noise it usually is. It is quiet and almost kind, though so misplaced from the chapped lips of the scarred ex-king. He says it for her and also for the other newcomers, who've come to pay their respects. They should - they're looking at the future. RE: We are the warriors; birthing (covet/shah/anyone really) - Valkerine - 05-11-2015 Plan? I don't need a plan!
It seems entirely logical to Valkerine that she should attract a crowd. She feels like she is a spectacle, but in the best of ways. Like a masterpiece, a work of art. The big one comes first - SO big! - and Val can't help but look up at her in awe. If she weren't already so invested in getting over to her father, no doubt she'd stop off for a visit. But her mother seems to think he's important, and so she does too.She looks around at the one horse as he touches her, his muzzle delicate on her skin. She is not afraid, not of him (not of anything), but instead curious. She makes a mental note to come back to him, because he's interesting. But when Covet speaks to her, she can't help it - she giggles again. "Father!" she says with excitement, starting to grasp the idea of language. And with the exuberance of a child she throws herself at him, pressing her tiny chest in the direction of his chest, but really ending up just about even with the tops of his legs, wrapping her face toward him in an adorable horse hug. But she is a showman, and she is not about to ignore the rest of her adoring public. The closest horse to her happens to be Shahrizai, although she doesn't know his name. And so, with all the unceremonious circumstance of the tiny filly she is, she breaks away from her embrace of Covet with adorable bombast, and wanders over on spindly legs to bump Shahrizai on the butt with her nose. She continues walking forward, almost falling into him just a little bit, giggling as she does so. When she's finally in front of him, she swings around to face him directly. "Hi!" she says, too exuberant, her eyes a sweet shade of chocolate that her mother had never quite managed. "I'm Valkerine." she says, her voice sweet and sassy all at once. "Name?!" she says, an impish grin on her face, using the same tone that she'd had with Covet. VALKERINE! tomboy daughter of librette & covet RE: We are the warriors; birthing (covet/shah/anyone really) - Librette - 05-11-2015
All things are possible: - Shahrizai - 05-19-2015 all things are possible even the worst of things A silly grin is still gracing his lips as he lifts his gaze to the stallion who had just introduced himself as their father. He studies him curiously, wondering about this man that Librette had chosen to be the father of her children. That she’d even had more children, given her general intolerance for them, surprises him. He recalls well her reaction to him as a gangly yearling. He hadn’t even been especially small at that point, though now he can fully recognize his prior immaturity. Amazing the perspective one gains with age. He can only wonder what kinds of perspective will be brought with even greater age. He could ask, but he knows it isn’t something he is likely to understand until he actually lives it. There are some things, he is coming to realize, that no amount of questioning can find an answer for. When the dark stallion says no more beyond his name, Shahrizai turns his attention back to the two girls as they bump noses. When Valkerine nearly stumbles into him, he automatically reaches out to steady her, shifting his weight to best provide a balance. He grins when she catches herself before turning to face him. His dark eyes remain focused on her, closely watching the little filly that looks so much like her mother. Her personality, however, is shaping up to be absolutely nothing like her mother’s, and Sharizai cannot help the laugh that bubbles from his lips at her precocious question. I’m Shahrizai. Friends call me Shah though. He winks at her, returning her grin with one of his own before lifting his head and looking at Librette with raised eyebrows (if he had eyebrows, that is). As he speaks, his tone is rife with teasing humor. You know, if she wasn’t the spitting image of you, I’d wonder if you had accidentally picked her up along the way. shahrizai RE: We are the warriors; birthing (covet/shah/anyone really) - Valkerine - 05-19-2015 Plan? I don't need a plan! She almost frowns when he steadies her – she doesn't want help, but at the same time, it's really handy and helps her right herself again as quickly as possible. She'll give him a pass, she decides. This time. He answers her question, and this time she does frown, because that's…well, it's a really hard name. Covet, Sister, these were easy. "Shar." she tries. "Shah-ha-reezy." she tries again, her face comically serious, focused and concentrating. "Shareezy." She pauses, pursing her lips. "Shah." she exhales. "Hmph." she looks him up and down, as though considering. "Zai." she finally says, with certainty in your voice. "I'm going to call you Zai." He speaks to her mother then, and Valkerine is not ready to stop being the center of attention, so she headbutts him gently in the shoulder. "She didn't pick us up along the way. She grew us, she told you." her voice is authoritative, bossy even, but it's the voice of a young filly and so it can't be anything but adorable. She backs away from him again, silent for a moment as though considering him. "She probably picked you up along the way." she says, but the way she says it isn't mean or cruel. She's just teasing, just being an outspoken, opinionated, teasing little child. And she seems very pleased that she's thought of such a clever way to turn his words around on him. She giggles. And then, for no reason at all, she leans forward again so she's within easy reach of his shoulder and licks him, gently. Her tongue is soft, baby-soft, and so tiny. It's just a small lick, as though he's an ice cream flavor and she's taking a taste-test. Pulling back, she flicks her tongue in and out of her mouth as though trying to clean it off, clearly displeased with the taste. She frowns at him. "You taste funny." She looks at him for just a moment, her nose wrinkled in adorable disgust, her expression full of sass, before turning and marching back to her mother and drowning his weird taste in the warmth of milk. VALKERINE! tomboy daughter of librette & covet |