cold in the violence after the war
hope is a fire to keep us warm
It’s hard to hide the concern she feels. Even harder to keep Lilli from seeing it. She doesn’t doubt the red mare had seen right through her paltry, hastily crafted excuses for why every time Lilli turned around she almost bumped right into Brazen. She can pretend, at least.
Reason number four hundred and thirty seven why Brazen should not be a mother. If she can’t handle a friend’s pregnancy, how on earth could she ever handle one herself? At least with Lilli, she could protect her. After all, one had only to look at her to know that is her entire purpose. What else is a horse covered in bone and granite good for? Hell, she is even already perpetually covered in blood. The gods must have had a fine laugh at that fate as they twisted it around their fingers like a cat’s cradle.
Warrior and protector is a far cry from mother though.
Her very pregnant friend is surprisingly adept at slipping through fingers however. And equally adept at diversionary tactics. Still, while Brazen may not be the brains of the family, she has managed to learn a thing or two. One being tracking skills, courtesy of her father. And the other being the ability to parse diversionary tactics (even if it does occasionally take her an embarrassing amount of time), courtesy of her mother.
All of which she has put to very good use (in her opinion, at least), monitoring one stubbornly determined chestnut mare. Which is what brings her to here and now, idly trailing Lilliana through the trees and along the river at a (hopefully) unnoticeable distance. She’s not so naive or foolish that she hadn’t realized why her friend sought privacy, or what the inevitable conclusion is. As a result, she keeps her distance, agitatedly patrolling a wide circumference.
And perhaps there are a handful of hapless passerbys she had diverted with pinned ears and bared teeth who might never have gotten close enough to know Lilli was there anyway, but Brazen preferred to think of it as being thorough.
As she makes yet another pass, Brazen realizes that Lilli is once more on the move. This time accompanied by two more sets of tiny prints. In her sudden anxiety, she follows them perhaps a bit more hastily than she should have. As she breaks through a line of trees, she realizes belatedly they had already stopped. Of course, at this point, it’s a little late to hide her presence.
Damn it, she should know better by now.
Wracking her brain to come up with her latest excuse, she eyes the two brand new babes nestled in a bed of grass before raising her gaze to Lilli, a faintly sheepish grin on her lips. “Y’know, I heard the sunset on the river is really pretty. I, uh, just thought I’d come see it.” She pauses a moment then, suddenly uncertain. No one had ever told her how one appropriately responds to meeting newly birthed horses. “So, um, these are yours?”
Brazen