the world spins madly on; children, any

[Kerowyn]

Her first instinct is to call for her mother, but she knows that is futile. She’s called a hundred times, and there’s never been an answer. There never will be. 

She calls for Caeli, instead; just like before, there is no answer. There hasn’t been for a long time, but the pain seems unbearable and my god, she isn’t exactly sure what to do. She’s panting and heaving on the ground, and then there’s an urge to push, and so she does. Soon, a brightly colored bundle slips out of her, and she noses it clean before the second one comes out, though this one is darker and colored like herself. Oh! But it has wings! Then the pain is gone, and she does her best to clean up the two - girls? Yes! Kerowyn gasps a little in awe. How did she make two such pretty little things?

Girls. Apparently like mother, like daughter, she thinks with a soft smile. Wouldn’t Caeli (and her mother?) just love to see them? The three of them stand, and Kerowyn urges her babies to nurse. Oh goodness, they are just so adorable. “Come on, Tamora,” she says to the chestnut girl, and then looks at her only minutes-younger sister, “You too, Marigny.” They come and nurse, their little tails flicking back and forth. She closes her eyes in contentment. This is the happiest she's felt in a long time. 

Motherhood isn't too bad after all. 




[i don't know why its being bad with html :/ ]

@[Dianna]

[Marigny]

Whoa. This new world is bright.

She clenches her eyes shut, returning to the safety of the darkness she had only known since, wholly unaccustomed to such irritating illumination. It really is quite displeasing, she notes to herself, vowing to never open her eyes again.

Her glossy wet pelt ripples and she realizes it gets worse.

It’s freaking cold!

She snorts in full disapproval, desperately yearning for the warm hug she had known only moments earlier. Luckily, the snout of something begins to brush and clean her soon after and she finds herself leaning into the warmth. “Mama?” she whimpers, with nothing more than instinct teaching her the cry. She continues to lean into the larger shape, but soon, her curiosity overcomes her prior vow and she sneaks a peek through narrow eyelids.

Whoa, this mama creature is huge!

She grumpily expands her eyelids a little further, enough to take in both the large figure cleaning her and the other smaller form whose scent she knew quite well. Sending a bleating whinny of happiness to her twin sister, she struggles to follow their lead onto wobbly stilt-like legs. “Mama,” she repeats again, though with far less fear and far more gratefulness.

Sniffing, she suddenly smells the sweet scent of something or other from Mama’s belly. She looks over, spying her slightly older sister already hungrily eating. Not to be left out, she wobbles over and latches on hungrily.

Well, the bright light situation certainly sucks, but the sustenance tastes far more delicious. Marigny could deal with that trade-off.

(sorry for the delay!!   )

[Tamora]

Oof. Whatever is beneath her is hard, and very unlike the cozy little nest she shared - was it only moments ago? - with her twin. It’s loud, too, and distinctly lacking the ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum of her twin’s heart. They were weightless in there, and part of her is very annoyed at not being so now. Here, she is all wobbly legs and it takes a concentrated effort to move properly! Who would want to move like this when they could simply… float? Not cool, world. Not cool. She is unimpressed.

The elder daughter looks up at her mother after her second tumble, searching for encouraging words; it’s rough out here, and her stomach is growling, and really, she isn’t sure what she wants to do at all, except make it warmer. Tamora’s frustration is so extreme, her want so fervent, that the grass beneath her hooves begins to turn brown until she finds herself at a suitable temperature. It isn’t a conscious thing, to take the energy from the plants and funnel it into herself - merely the want of a frustrated child.

No one beyond the three of them may have even noticed; Tamora certainly didn’t realize what she was doing, and her mother will be no help when it comes to discovering how to use her gift. Kerowyn is, however, observant, despite trying to split her attention, and calls out for the wobbly little girl to come and eat, lest she have something bigger than she can handle at the moment. Tamora? Mama is looking at her, so that must be her name. Either way, it’s pretty, and so is her sister’s name. She lurches towards her mother and it isn’t long before she’s found dinner - and is soon joined by Marigny.

Ok, so maybe this world isn’t so bad after all.