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+------ Thread: burning cities and napalm skies (/showthread.php?tid=15868)
burning cities and napalm skies - Djinni - 07-27-2017
Unlike the first time, Djinni is prepared.
Those rippling aches are impossible to miss, and she seeks solitude immediately. Around the ambling mare, the trees of Sylva stretch tall and dark, the path ahead of her barely visible in the shrouded light of a new moon. The mountains in the distance are growing closer, and by the time midnight comes and she falls to her knees, the smell of the sea has reached her. Beyond the edge of the cliff that she lies on, the world falls away into blackness. The thunder of waves against stone is audible between the quiet chirruping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the wind, and it is a calming beat to the grey mare that sweats on the ground. The leaves beneath her body cushion the stone of the cliff, and she is not fully in the open. A young poplar dances in her line of vision, the undersides of its silvery leaves flickering in the pale light.
Hours pass, not so terrifying this time around.
By the time dawn is coloring the tips of the trees behind her, Djinni is no longer alone. Two foals are curled beside her, their pied coats and tufts of mane licked dry by her careful caresses. She can’t quite recall which had been born first. But it is easy to tell them apart. The girl is pale as moonlight, with only an irregular marking on her head revealing the grullo base of her pied coat. The boy is more evenly marked, with equal patches of white against his dun coat.
Unlike her first born, they each look perfectly normal. There are no scales or teeth that she can see, just horseflesh and sleepingly blinking eyes
It’s rather boring, she decides.
With a flick of her tail, she makes them special. They’re gifted something plucked from her own bag of tricks, and while she feels the quiet shiver as those abilities leave her, she is reassured by the memory of that prideful warmth she’d felt in Ivar’s presence. Her children will be special in whatever way she can make them. They will make her proud. Both foals still seems traitless, but it is the unseen that is always more interesting. Well, the boy’s will remain unseen; Djinni suspects the girl will be a bit more visible.
As the world around them brightens, Djinni pulls herself to her feet. For a moment her dark legs trembled beneath her, but they soon adjust. Lowering her head, the grey mare whickers encouragingly to the children, beckoning them to stand.