11-07-2015, 08:19 PM
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They came when they called.
One, lost from her mother, stomach growling and eyes wide and fierce. She knew then, this would be her daughter. Oh, the loved daughter she never seemed to have! Instead cursed with boy after boy after boy. Surgery, with his palomino skin, looked enough like her to pass. He was standing then, blinking at the two new foals. His sisters.
His sisters! He welcomed them happily, extending his head, nuzzling them. Sister sister sister.
And Harmonia reaches her then, folding her into her small, able body. She is tiny and fragile, not too much larger than her foals, but her magic radiates in ways that make her seem large and capable and strong. Maternal. Those are words never used for the magical mare and her endless pits for eyes.
The second girl sees them as creatures, and she allows the illusion. Her magic reaches out and turns them into forest creatures and critters, welcoming her to the pack. Softly, quietly, the music of her call plays on the wind, alluring to the foals in the area. Any who wanted to come should, even those that did not want to come.
So she leads the way - over the brisk landscape and finally at the base of the volcano.
This would be home.
Once inside she closes her eyes and raises a barrier spell - only the foals may cross. Adults? They'd find themselves up against a thick wall of magic that would take some strength to break down. Only a fool would try to cross.
And the foals couldn't leave.
"Welcome home, my children," she coos.
One, lost from her mother, stomach growling and eyes wide and fierce. She knew then, this would be her daughter. Oh, the loved daughter she never seemed to have! Instead cursed with boy after boy after boy. Surgery, with his palomino skin, looked enough like her to pass. He was standing then, blinking at the two new foals. His sisters.
His sisters! He welcomed them happily, extending his head, nuzzling them. Sister sister sister.
And Harmonia reaches her then, folding her into her small, able body. She is tiny and fragile, not too much larger than her foals, but her magic radiates in ways that make her seem large and capable and strong. Maternal. Those are words never used for the magical mare and her endless pits for eyes.
The second girl sees them as creatures, and she allows the illusion. Her magic reaches out and turns them into forest creatures and critters, welcoming her to the pack. Softly, quietly, the music of her call plays on the wind, alluring to the foals in the area. Any who wanted to come should, even those that did not want to come.
So she leads the way - over the brisk landscape and finally at the base of the volcano.
This would be home.
Once inside she closes her eyes and raises a barrier spell - only the foals may cross. Adults? They'd find themselves up against a thick wall of magic that would take some strength to break down. Only a fool would try to cross.
And the foals couldn't leave.
"Welcome home, my children," she coos.
harmonia. surgery.
when the pied piper calls, you come
when the pied piper calls, you come