11-03-2015, 09:22 PM
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This is where it always started, where it always happened.
She'd feel the ebb and flow of the stress of the foal and decide to leave it. It was a boy ,she knew that, and she let it happen like she had time and time again. Never, ever would it seem luck would give her a girl. She'd tried to change it mid-pregnancy once...what a disaster.
They were all disasters. That's why she left them.
She'd birth them in the meadow, right where it meets the Adoption Den. Then she'd bestow on them some gift so she could find them later. Covet and Sloan had orange eyes - her only two great children! The rest rotted away like the corpses they all were. Her line was too perfect to have such a string of fucking failures. She hated them all.
And push came to shove, came to push...push...push!
The sweet eyes of a baby boy. Palomino, the color of herself...with his fathers apricot mane and tale. She was such a sucker for those men with their color - flashy. Important. Reminding her of a certain orange eyed beast she loved like only a mother could. She thinks of him in his grave all these hundreds of years after his birth and aches for that loss. For that hole.
Surgery looks up at her with those wide, beautiful eyes. Her eyes.
She must have more.
Without thinking too much more on the topic she closes her eyes and feels for all the children in the area. Young, all younger than two, all of them would be hers. She'd bring them to her then, snatching them in the night with trickery and foolery. Some would follow an enchanting melody to find her here and her birth-covered son. Others would chase butterflies or other apparitions. Straight from their safe beds to her.
She wanted them all. She wanted them now.
She'd feel the ebb and flow of the stress of the foal and decide to leave it. It was a boy ,she knew that, and she let it happen like she had time and time again. Never, ever would it seem luck would give her a girl. She'd tried to change it mid-pregnancy once...what a disaster.
They were all disasters. That's why she left them.
She'd birth them in the meadow, right where it meets the Adoption Den. Then she'd bestow on them some gift so she could find them later. Covet and Sloan had orange eyes - her only two great children! The rest rotted away like the corpses they all were. Her line was too perfect to have such a string of fucking failures. She hated them all.
And push came to shove, came to push...push...push!
The sweet eyes of a baby boy. Palomino, the color of herself...with his fathers apricot mane and tale. She was such a sucker for those men with their color - flashy. Important. Reminding her of a certain orange eyed beast she loved like only a mother could. She thinks of him in his grave all these hundreds of years after his birth and aches for that loss. For that hole.
Surgery looks up at her with those wide, beautiful eyes. Her eyes.
She must have more.
Without thinking too much more on the topic she closes her eyes and feels for all the children in the area. Young, all younger than two, all of them would be hers. She'd bring them to her then, snatching them in the night with trickery and foolery. Some would follow an enchanting melody to find her here and her birth-covered son. Others would chase butterflies or other apparitions. Straight from their safe beds to her.
She wanted them all. She wanted them now.
harmonia. surgery.
when the pied piper calls, you come
when the pied piper calls, you come