[open] Like a fine, aged wine [Any; Birthing]

[Pothos]

Birthing, it was the second best season after breeding. Love and affection filled the air, and just as dew settled in the morning the sweet sugar of love landed on the outstretched tongue of a young, handsome stallion. Pothos’s lips quivered, and a reactive moan escaped them as he curled his tongue back into his mouth. He pressed the sugar-like grain between his tongue and teeth for a moment before rolling it along his gums while it dissolved. He knew the flavor well. It was unique to a mother. The dissolution of the invisible substance coursed through the stallion, and instilled him with vitality. Pothos felt an unusual strength and concluded that he had just tasted of something laced with impeccably unique magic. The stallion was made up of vibrant colors, blues, greens, pinks, and more. Feathers not only adorned his double set of wings, but they were tucked in decoratively to his white cloud of mane and tail. Though Pothos was older, he often appeared as a youthful, well endowed stallion just past puberty. His own magic swirled around him and created an aura of attraction and sexual energy. He held his head high and pranced forward following the trail he had just picked up on. As Pothos neared the mare he enlarged his wings and magically altered his voice to a soothing, yet obnoxiously loud volume, ”HELLO, MY DARLING…..” He expounded. His magic pulsed, and he expelled a sense of love, familiarity, and comfort toward the mare. Lowering his volume he continued ”Why what a sweet, sweet boy you have”. Pothos attempted to approach uncomfortably close. His head lowered toward the foal, and his lips pursed. ”You are such a cutie, yes, yes you are” His voice now transitioned to baby-talk. All the while his nose visibly flared, and he inhaled the addictive strain of motherly love.

I’m so sorry he’s being kinda creepy hehe @[Blasphemare]