And inside you're burning
with some secret yearning
The moon stretches its face high into the sky as the last streaks of pink and purple fade into navy, heralding the night to come. Her night. For that is what it is to the teal-tipped mare. The night has been a more faithful and constant lover than any other she has had. And the night brings the stars, their simple, eternal light singing quietly to her in a way nothing else ever would.
If she could live amongst them, she would do so in a heartbeat.
But alas, she is only a mortal creature, bound to this world by iron tethers. She would always rue the day that had decreed it so. The day that had given her such an ethereal and fleeting taste of those distant stars, and in so doing had denied her access to them.
She breathes in the cool night air, teal lids closing over silver-bright eyes as she basks in the feeble light of dusk. Today she wears curling horns upon her head and brilliant star-ridden wings upon her shoulders. It is how she brings herself close to those distant pinpricks of light, how she feels their majesty. She does her best to ignore the echoes of pain rippling through her belly, a certain foretelling of the birth to come.
She should know better by now. Indeed, she is entirely certain she could have avoided this. But the temptation was too great, and he had been such an easy and willing mark. How could a girl resist?
But this part. This part, she could do without. Would do without, should she have her way. She would simply have to be satisfied with admiration.
When the pain becomes too difficult to ignore, she sets out across the meadow. The young grass brushes against her hocks, tickling her sensitive skin as she seeks out a suitable place to bring this child into the world. A soft huff of breath escapes her lips as an especially strong contraction squeezes her sides, causing irritation to swiftly replace indifference.
She soon locates a small, somewhat obscure corner of the meadow and claims as her own. At least for the time being. In a few, short moments, a shield has been settled around her and she is struggling to bring life into the world.
Soon the girl is born, and Lirren is inspecting her closely as she cleans the birth from her skin. She is a bay color to match hers, but white roans her body to a dustier shade. And there, upon her forehead, is small nub. When she discovers this, she lifts her head in surprise. Well, that is certainly unexpected.
She has, it seems, a horn.
With a faint smile adorning her lips, Lirren lowers her head to whisper softly into the girl’s whispy mane. ”Darling Oricle. You are destined to be a surprise, I think.”
Lirren
starlit daughter of joythief and carnage
@[Tiny]