06-29-2024, 10:54 PM
This is such a strange reality for Tirza that she barely even believes that it is real. Surely this is a dream, the fact that she is continuing her bloodline. That a little piece of her parents are going to exist in another victim now, a fourth one. It had never been a desire of hers, to be a mother. Not even in an effort to overwrite the beginnings she has begun to feel fade with time and distance.
Even now, this was all a mistake. Not quite an accident - she knew exactly what events had tipped the dominoes in this direction - but a surprising lack of forethought had certainly led to this moment.
The birth of her daughter.
She does not allow herself a moment’s peace, does not lie there for longer than she has to or take any more calming breaths than required. Whatever events had led her here, she was a mother now. Nothing would undo that.
Tirza stands, she is thankful for nature and the instincts that it provides her when nurture gave her so very little. But not her daughter. Not this dark purple filly, a relief that it is her current colour - the reborn colour - that is on display instead of what once was. Hints of her father are already visible and this does not fill Tirza with dread. They will meet, she is sure, and he will be given a chance to be involved.
For now it is just them, a soft orange-pink glow lighting up the small face she peers down to and whispers in her rough voice, attempting to soften it in a way she has never tried to before. “Little Tear.”
And although she doesn’t quite mean it yet - because how could she? They had only just barely met? - she feels it is important that it is one of the first things the filly hears in her life. “I love you.”
Even now, this was all a mistake. Not quite an accident - she knew exactly what events had tipped the dominoes in this direction - but a surprising lack of forethought had certainly led to this moment.
The birth of her daughter.
She does not allow herself a moment’s peace, does not lie there for longer than she has to or take any more calming breaths than required. Whatever events had led her here, she was a mother now. Nothing would undo that.
Tirza stands, she is thankful for nature and the instincts that it provides her when nurture gave her so very little. But not her daughter. Not this dark purple filly, a relief that it is her current colour - the reborn colour - that is on display instead of what once was. Hints of her father are already visible and this does not fill Tirza with dread. They will meet, she is sure, and he will be given a chance to be involved.
For now it is just them, a soft orange-pink glow lighting up the small face she peers down to and whispers in her rough voice, attempting to soften it in a way she has never tried to before. “Little Tear.”
And although she doesn’t quite mean it yet - because how could she? They had only just barely met? - she feels it is important that it is one of the first things the filly hears in her life. “I love you.”
@tear