our breath is weak & our bodies thin [scorch]

[Hestoni]

press my nose up to the glass around your heart i should’ve known i was weaker from the start Although during this time of the year many stallions find themselves driven crazy with the lust for women, the titan remains with a relatively clear mind. Clear enough, at least, that he makes trips to all the various places of his children’s births. First are Kaida and Noori (his precious little twins, now off and in their own worlds) in their cocoon of safety in the Jungle. Their birthplace is overrun by a newly-created stream from the melted snow; one that the titan thinks will stick around for a while. He can still remember the intense hours waiting for his new lover and their new children, pacing back and forth until the ground wore away under his thumping hooves. And then the innocent dragon fire of their eyes, peering up at him, with Noori’s gentle little muzzle getting shoved into his strong, deep chest. Next was Rain (their darling little girl, the filly who never grew into her gangly legs or even had the chance to stand) at the borders of the Valley. He does travel there, even when a strong wind picks up and brings in a short thunderstorm. He stands at the border, never going in, but simply breathing in the clear air and wondering and thinking and wishing and wanting and praying about all the things that could have been instead of all the things that were. Then came Simeon (his brave son, the boy he didn’t know about until he was running away from his own shadows), within the same cocoon of safety as his previous sisters. Another labor the titan wasn’t able to experience, another event of pacing and waiting and fretting that he wasn’t able to partake in. But he can remember meeting his son – the multicolored flare of his eyes, the proud and electric way he stood tall as all young stallions do, the gleam of dragon fire inside of his heart. Their next son, Shaharizi, born in a different part of the Jungle but nonetheless an innocence among the chaos of their home (the boy with no tail, the strong little heart only wanting to please his parents, the youngling with the soul of friendliness). The titan presses his nose into the dirt of the laboring place, remembering how his lover had giggled over the child’s lack of a tail. Finally, a boy in common with his mother rather than his father. Finally, there was Ea (their dragon-hearted princess, their spitfire youngest, their ‘we better raise this one right’ daughter) as their last. A girl they could restart with. A girl they could focus on and bring good out of away from the mistakes of their first twin daughters. A girl with so much potential, it nearly flooded out of her entire being. He lingers at the edge of Ea’s birthplace – where the giant rock marks the destination of her delivery. And he waits. He knows his fire will find him soon, as she always does. And so he waits. And he remembers. And he loves.