04-27-2015, 09:14 PM
It was impossible to know what had driven her here, impossible to know why she had stayed. Instinct should have bound her to him, to the Desert, to the closest place she had to call home. And yet, impossibly, fear fell like a wedge between them. Night rolled in, unravelling like a velvet blanket, and when it rolled back out, so had Else. If it was fear that tempted her from Caius, from the sun-bleached sand, it was desperation that urged her further; habit that brought her back to where it all began.
And three days later, in the early hours of morning, beneath a sky painted soft with rose and gold, Else gave birth.
--
There was a sliver of a smile on Else’s mouth as she reached down for the millionth time in several days to brush her lips reassuringly against Elanor’s satin skin. The filly hardly seemed to notice, though she bounced her delicate hip against Else’s leg with a quick shake of that scrub brush tail. Else smiled again. Ahead, the sun in the leaves drew moving shapes in the grass, meaningless patterns, and Elanor bounded forward to chase them. The sudden absence of her daughter made Else’s stomach clench and writhe like a dying beast, but she held her tongue, simply picking up the pace to close the distance between them.
They were on their way back to the Desert, back to Caius – and oh, how her chest ached at this. She could feel each emotion like an individual sting. There was fear, uncertainty, and it was bleak and black and full of dread, the dread that comes hand-in-hand with the unknown. But there was also joy, pride, and it burned great ragged holes through the dark. She clung to this.
She caught up to Elanor quickly, tapping her nose softly against the girl’s withers just as thunder rumbled in the distance. Elanor’s whole body seemed to tighten, those tiny muscle clenching beneath her skin as she met Else’s gaze with wide, uncertain eyes. She did this often, sometimes without warning. Each time she did, Else could feel worry blossoming like poison in the pit of her stomach.
Rain fell cool and soft, quickly drenching the pair as Else lead them to the shelter of the tree line. When she glanced over to make sure Elanor was still following, she noticed the child’s face was slack and sleepy, the line of her mouth soft. Whatever had startled her seemed to have passed. If only it were so easy to erase the anxiety bleeding through Else’s thrumming veins.
But suddenly the wind picked up, and it carried to Else a desperately familiar scent that coaxed her instincts into an almost frantic overdrive. A child- new and fresh and achingly sweet. She drew to an uncertain halt, reassured by the way Elanor wove against her legs. For a moment she wondered if it had been a trick of her nerves, her anxieties tainting her imagination. But there, curled unmovingly against the base of a tree, was a child. A colt. Like a doe she watched him, frozen, keeping Elanor close with the soft of her nose, and her ears swiveling on alert.
It took but a moment for her to realize the wrongness of the situation, of an unwatched infant who smelt only of rain and earth. And a moment too long to realize the cold creeping against her skin where Elanor had perched quivering beside her mother just a moment ago. Reaching out with a whiskery mouth no larger than a fist, Elanor drew her lips across his breathing ribcage with those same wide eyes that softened just a moment later. Emboldened by her mother who had come to stand just behind her, she grabbed a tuft of his mane between her teeth and tugged with a delighted smile.
“Hello wake up!” Her voice was bright and chirrupy as she loomed over him with wide blue eyes. Then, with a quiet gasp, “You look just like the sky.”
And three days later, in the early hours of morning, beneath a sky painted soft with rose and gold, Else gave birth.
--
There was a sliver of a smile on Else’s mouth as she reached down for the millionth time in several days to brush her lips reassuringly against Elanor’s satin skin. The filly hardly seemed to notice, though she bounced her delicate hip against Else’s leg with a quick shake of that scrub brush tail. Else smiled again. Ahead, the sun in the leaves drew moving shapes in the grass, meaningless patterns, and Elanor bounded forward to chase them. The sudden absence of her daughter made Else’s stomach clench and writhe like a dying beast, but she held her tongue, simply picking up the pace to close the distance between them.
They were on their way back to the Desert, back to Caius – and oh, how her chest ached at this. She could feel each emotion like an individual sting. There was fear, uncertainty, and it was bleak and black and full of dread, the dread that comes hand-in-hand with the unknown. But there was also joy, pride, and it burned great ragged holes through the dark. She clung to this.
She caught up to Elanor quickly, tapping her nose softly against the girl’s withers just as thunder rumbled in the distance. Elanor’s whole body seemed to tighten, those tiny muscle clenching beneath her skin as she met Else’s gaze with wide, uncertain eyes. She did this often, sometimes without warning. Each time she did, Else could feel worry blossoming like poison in the pit of her stomach.
Rain fell cool and soft, quickly drenching the pair as Else lead them to the shelter of the tree line. When she glanced over to make sure Elanor was still following, she noticed the child’s face was slack and sleepy, the line of her mouth soft. Whatever had startled her seemed to have passed. If only it were so easy to erase the anxiety bleeding through Else’s thrumming veins.
But suddenly the wind picked up, and it carried to Else a desperately familiar scent that coaxed her instincts into an almost frantic overdrive. A child- new and fresh and achingly sweet. She drew to an uncertain halt, reassured by the way Elanor wove against her legs. For a moment she wondered if it had been a trick of her nerves, her anxieties tainting her imagination. But there, curled unmovingly against the base of a tree, was a child. A colt. Like a doe she watched him, frozen, keeping Elanor close with the soft of her nose, and her ears swiveling on alert.
It took but a moment for her to realize the wrongness of the situation, of an unwatched infant who smelt only of rain and earth. And a moment too long to realize the cold creeping against her skin where Elanor had perched quivering beside her mother just a moment ago. Reaching out with a whiskery mouth no larger than a fist, Elanor drew her lips across his breathing ribcage with those same wide eyes that softened just a moment later. Emboldened by her mother who had come to stand just behind her, she grabbed a tuft of his mane between her teeth and tugged with a delighted smile.
“Hello wake up!” Her voice was bright and chirrupy as she loomed over him with wide blue eyes. Then, with a quiet gasp, “You look just like the sky.”