the stars in her eyes; birthing--mandan, any

[Ygritte]

It was early when it began to start. There was a movement in her belly but unlike what she had grown accustomed to in the past few weeks. This was more pressing, more aggressive. Ygritte's snap open at such force and concern clouds her features just as a squeeze deep inside clenches and momentarily her vision dims and her breath catches. The unborn babe was her first but natural instincts seems to take over, soothing the young soon-to-be mother. Dark eyes look to Mandan's as she rose to her feet (she had been laying down to sleep lately to relieve the stress upon her joints.) Blessedly the morning was warmer than usual but the sun was still sleeping, nested with the birds.

The salmon mare groaned softly as a new wave of clenching and pain shattered her sleepiness and she gains her feet beneath her. Velvet lips reach to gently rouse her sleeping mate. "Mandan..." She whispers his name against his skin now, needing his touch to give her strength. She can feel the clenching beginning again and she grits her jaw to brace for it. Pools look as Mandan hoping has woken to witness the birth of child.

Ygritte moves from their sleeping place but not far from the falls in case they should need the healing traits of the waters in this sacred event. The young mare is scared and panting softly when she reaches the soft grasses in which she practically falls into, her knees scratched and dirty in the dirt and she lays her head upon the earth, breathing and resting as another contraction takes her body. They seemed almost connected at this point, only a few moments between the waves. She must shut her eyes and smell the damp ground that surrounds her seemingly gaining strength from the very earth that surrounded her like a grassy embrace. Limbs push to shift her weight to her side, the belly bulged and clenching when Ygritte feels warmth flow from her and under her and she is alarmed thinking she was bleeding to death right then and there but upon a labored lifted of her skull she can see it is not blood but another liquid. It smells of something different but at least it is not blood. She drops her skull with a heavy thud back into a neutral position and then as if possessed, her body contracts and she starts to push.

Push
Hoof tips
Push
Long, long legs
Push
A head, a pink star, withers
Push
A filly is born

Ygritte can only lay there breathing shallowly. So tired. Dark eyes roll to search for her mate's warm features, his presence alone comforts her. A weary smile crosses her lips before she moves to find her feet without much thought to her own body, moving to find the small wet foal that had just raised her head. Her! Eyes dampen in the rush of emotions and she is overwhelmed but keeps it together...barely. Lips touch the little girl child, nuzzling, licking, wuffling. The baby pushes against Ygritte, wobbling with the weight of her own skull as she lays dazed under the wink of the first morning stars.

Tiny eyes blink and start to clear and they look at this creature that was presently touching her. Mother. The tiny mind comprehends this thought she filly does not know why. Tiny head looks to see another of another scent nearby though she is not sure of the connection yet but what she is sure of is that she wants to move from the wet ground. Little spidery limbs shoot out and brace as the help from the mother-horse begins to get under her and easing the movement of the girl. The filly finds her feet though they don't particularly agree with this and she promptly tumbles over in a heap of limbs.

It takes a few more tries before the baby manages to stand on her own and instinctively searches for her first meal, Ygritte guiding gently. The woman smiles softly, lovingly. She looks to her mate as the sun crests and the first rays of sun spill over the falls. "What shall we call her, my love?" Soft, soft tones are all she can muster right now through the exhaustion.

ygritte

texas&nativity