03-09-2016, 02:36 AM
But still you out in these streets, thinking you hot as can be.
Without the knowledge to lead, so you just follow the sheep.
Making sure your lame swag is all polished and clean
Have you ever been surrounded by others, only to feel the greatest sense of loneliness that one could manage? It was almost exactly what the jaguar spotted stallion was going through now. Though his life was about to change dramatically, he didn’t know it and because of that he was always searching for new faces to fill his days and soothe that feeling of loneliness even if only for a few hours. You could say this is why he suddenly looked up to find himself in the Adoption Den. It was easily assumed that his subconscious had caused him to end up here.
The adoption den was one of the few places that most equines avoided during their lives. Growing up foals typically heard stories of how being naughty could end you up in this place of solitude and loneliness no longer wanted or returned for… From a child’s perspective, once a child had been left in the Den, those children usually never returned. In a young one’s mind, the stories and rumors that were created were that of extreme imagining. Stories of foals being fed to monsters, of the ghosts of the afterlife pulling their souls down below. Of cannibals searching for them in the night, hunting them like a delicious prey.
But once one grew and began to learn about the realities of the world, they learned that their stories were ridiculous. That the Den was simply created by the God’s in order to provide the children without a parent or parents an opportunity to be given a life with a family that would take care of them and help them to grow and survive. Yet typically the process was of mare’s making their way to the adoption den, searching and hoping to fill their hearts with the joy of motherhood not of stallion’s coming and searching for fatherhood. It wasn’t unheard of course, yet it was unusual. It took a special man to want to provide for a child on their own. Especially one that wasn’t even their own by blood.
These men were cherished by the world. Looked upon with more respect than most would have received for simply doing their duty to their family. So rare was it that a man took responsibility for a child on his own that wasn’t even his, that it tended to send a shock of surprise through those who heard of it. Comprehending such a thing tended to be difficult for the masses, and it was understandable. As the care of a child was seen in the old school manner. That it was a mother or female’s role to provide that care. But these are new times. And with new times came changes. No matter how surprising or unusual.
With slow steps, the winged stallion stepped through the trees and entered the adoption den, his empty eye sockets lacking the fire he had kept them filled with the past months. He used the sounds of the small birds chirping and the soft winds blowing through the tall golden wheat to lead him where he wanted to go. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat. The sense of nerves making his blood flow with intensity as it mixed with the fire within his veins. The act of adoption was one that made him nervous. Not only was it important to make the choice without a doubt in your mind, but adoption made a potential adoptive parent nervous beyond belief.
The worries of being accepted or rejected flowed through his mind, like it would anyone and his muscles tensed slightly, his skin pulling tight over his lean yet muscular frame. Slowly he walked, his ears flicking around every now at then at the soft sounds of the wind when finally, he heard the tiny sweet laughter of a child. He stops then standing straight and tall as his nostrils flared and he took a deep breath. The feeling of anxiety trembled through him from his hooves to the tips of his ears then, until another’s voice tripped through the air with a sort of kindness that he could have mistaken as his own.
It was this that made Demian’s lips twitch upwards in a sort of small smile as he listened to the conversation between the two. A small chuckle escaped his throat, slipping through his lips when he heard the child ask about the man’s height and stepping forward, he approached them slowly. “I have a feeling he was. Probably scared the right heck out of his dear ole mother.” He tilts his head towards the stallion and smirks a bit more. He doesn’t truly know how tall Offspring is. Not yet anyway. Yet he has no wish to reveal his ways of sight. Not now. For now, he wanted to be as normal as possible. “Offspring, Maribel. My name is Demian.”
What a strange event this was. Two stallions, one filly. If anyone were to bare witness it would be almost comical.
demian.