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Twinkling fireflies trace their mimic constellations; birthing - Fang/Fiero/Any - Printable Version

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Twinkling fireflies trace their mimic constellations; birthing - Fang/Fiero/Any - Vineine - 03-22-2016

And through the branches twinkling fireflies trace their mimic 
constellations --

She leaves him there.

She waited, of course, until she was sure. Until she was spent. 

She had licked him clean twice over and he had answered her tender stimulation with stillness. 
The grey mare had laboured hard for both of them, for the first time feeling the immense and impossible strain of two. He had slipped out easily enough, head first and well sized. It may have been a small kindness that the buckskin boy had come second – some life after death.
She wondered, at first, how much of that flame, smoke and hellishness had worried her womb. The first two had been so  peaceful. Perfect.
The third had been complicated and strange, to be sure, but nothing like this. Nothing like war.

In time, she leaves him there, when she knows there is nothing left to be done. There had never been anything to be done – he had been born gone and for the life of her, she cannot remember when she had stopped feeling two move.

She touches the living colt (so uncannily like Trys and Ear – they had made it; birth is not a tidy or safe thing). She lets him drink and inhales his scent, horsehair and herself. The other boy is gone. Perhaps long gone, and she leaves something of herself there – in their quiet place of ash and blackened fern – with him. It is a small part. She has the living boy to tend to and everything in her bends towards him.
He needs her, much more than his brother ever did.

She leads him past charred trees and dead things and she knows he is too new to know any different. It is hard to say if that is a gift or a tragedy. It just is what it is and as sure as winter, the vegetation will grow again and he will know the jungle as it had been. Everything in time. 
She does not bring him to the clearing (stomped flat and dusty by the hooves and paws and cushioned feet of a dozen roiling creatures) where she had kept the sanctuary, and where sanctuary had been breached by hell. She gives it a wide berth, finding a spot closer to the border not spoiled by the stench of sea things, and presses him close.

“She left me you, though, didn’t she.” the mousy mare murmurs, “Hm, Fang,” she kisses the twist of hair on his forehead and wonders what she had done to be punished so.

Fang, like from the black and deepest mouth. Like those of the raw-throated and tawny-skinned guardians that had filled the spaces left by her doubt and her cowardice, who had lent themselves to a war that was never theirs to begin with.

-- Amazonian Charoli, mother, daughter of Prague and Elladora


@[madie]

RE: Twinkling fireflies trace their mimic constellations; birthing - Fang/Fiero/Any - Naga - 03-23-2016

It was not long since the sisters returned from the war, sadly their return was not the most pleasant. Home burned to a crisp and many injured, both mentally and physically. Her black simged body walked slowly along, her mind reeling, she wondered if she should retrieve her daughters from the fairies in the playground. She wanted to be sure it was safe again. Though it probably was, since the fire and battle nothing else has happened. She was still shaken, and it was hard for her to accept that she couldn't have done more to save the kingdom from the blaze.

why....why couldn't I have done more....I need a sign....a sign of hope... her mind let those words repeat, and repeat again. Trying to reassure herself that everything would be ok. Soon her flared nostrils caught the scent of someone familiar. Vineine. Naga's ears perked forward. SHE IS OK!!! she began to quicken her pace toward the scent of her fellow sister. Vineine was present for the birth of her two twins Eirwen and Iluna who were sent to the playground to be safe during the war. Naga considered her a friend.

As she approached she notices a small mass lying lifeless on the ground, it smelled of Vineine....but...where was Vineine.... Naga began to worry. Her friend lost her precious foal, her heart began to ache for her. But soon she could see rose grey mare closer to the border. She walked closer to her, letting out a soft, warm nicker. As she neared she noticed a small buckskin colt beside her. Naga's heart warmed once again, a smile developed across black velvet lips. Her voice was soft.

"Vineine....I am so glad you are ok. I am sorry if I am intruding....but...Congratulations, he is beautiful. Have you bestowed him with a name yet?"

She looks to the buckskin colt and then back to her rosey grey friend. She had not seen her since before the bloody and flame filled battle. Her heart was aching for her sisters away at war. She wished she had gone to fight in the fray, but alas she stayed home to help the others who stayed behind. She does not mention the second foal, as to not upset her further if she was already upset over the loss. She did not want to cause any more pain, she wanted to induce hope. And that is what this colt was, hope. Hope, and life. A symbol of the birth of new hope. Soon the kingdom itself will be reborn and grow to be more lush and strong than it ever was before. This is what she needed, and she was glad she was able to see her friend's new baby as she had once seen hers the year prior.

naga

the jungle panther of atrox and shadowmere