03-30-2019, 01:26 AM
Jah-Lilah
and her memory is all that is left for you now
If you leap awake in the mirror of a bad dream, don’t for a fraction of a second forget where and who you are.
The clouds had gathered all day, ominous and drab, threatening to burst forth with rain at any moment. It was the arrival of the first thunderstorm of spring that alerted Jah-Lilah that something was coming. The red magicker had looked everywhere except at her own bloated belly, carrying a child who was three days overdue. She’d blame her naivete on pregnancy brain for all the rest of her immortal years. When the thunder begins it’s deep growling after sunset, she’s already pacing anxiously around her den, eyes showing their whites, unable to focus on anything for more than a millisecond.
The storm will usher her mate to her, this she knows, but she calls out for him anyway. Sweat already coats her body, and a terrible knotting is underway inside of her abdomen. And now she knows the foal is coming. The realization smacks her like a ton of bricks, and she attempts to collect her frantic thoughts. Pausing her incessant pacing for only a moment, she brings a hoof to her belly, longing for some relief. Nostrils wide as she tries to catch her breath, she waddles over to where her herbs are stashed, grunting through gritted teeth. Nosing through the various plant parts, she sniffs out her catnip and proceeds to down two servings, desperately seeking alleviation from the cramps. My red mare has barely swallowed the remedy when a pain so sharp it almost forces her to her knees rocks her body.
This labor is nothing like the cakewalk that was Gypsy.
In the same instant, as if rehearsed, Jah-Lilah below and the clouds above both burst. A torrential downpour is upon Beqanna tonight, and the crimson woman is in labor. Lightning tears through the sky out of nowhere, and for a moment it is so bright it could be daytime. Now that her water has broke, the foal seems to be wasting no time trying to claw his way out of her womb. Did he actually give her a damn half-dragon colt?! The outburst of thunder that trails the lightning spooks her already unstable frame, and this time she cannot keep steady. The mare goes down, fall cushioned by the nest she had so carefully been crafting since her arrival.
Sides heaving, she lie there, bellowing for her mate again, dragging her head across the earth. The organic treatment has at last started making it’s way through her system, and she settles noticeably. Blinded by the drizzle and the darkness, she concedes to the wave of exhaustion that washes over her and closes her eyes. Fidgeting and restless, she struggles to find a comfortable position, so she allows her limbs to do whatever they want. Another contraction now and she endures almost silently. Willing her mind and body to stave off the necessary discomfort, again her jaw is clamped together and she blows hard from her nostrils. Lightning strikes again, the flash bright even behind her eyelids.
Desperate to not allow her other half to miss yet another birthing, she sends out a mental message, hoping the invisible tether that seems to bind them together (no matter the distance) will pull him to her once more.
Just open your window and follow your memory upstream to the meadow in the mountain where we counted every falling star.
The clouds had gathered all day, ominous and drab, threatening to burst forth with rain at any moment. It was the arrival of the first thunderstorm of spring that alerted Jah-Lilah that something was coming. The red magicker had looked everywhere except at her own bloated belly, carrying a child who was three days overdue. She’d blame her naivete on pregnancy brain for all the rest of her immortal years. When the thunder begins it’s deep growling after sunset, she’s already pacing anxiously around her den, eyes showing their whites, unable to focus on anything for more than a millisecond.
The storm will usher her mate to her, this she knows, but she calls out for him anyway. Sweat already coats her body, and a terrible knotting is underway inside of her abdomen. And now she knows the foal is coming. The realization smacks her like a ton of bricks, and she attempts to collect her frantic thoughts. Pausing her incessant pacing for only a moment, she brings a hoof to her belly, longing for some relief. Nostrils wide as she tries to catch her breath, she waddles over to where her herbs are stashed, grunting through gritted teeth. Nosing through the various plant parts, she sniffs out her catnip and proceeds to down two servings, desperately seeking alleviation from the cramps. My red mare has barely swallowed the remedy when a pain so sharp it almost forces her to her knees rocks her body.
This labor is nothing like the cakewalk that was Gypsy.
In the same instant, as if rehearsed, Jah-Lilah below and the clouds above both burst. A torrential downpour is upon Beqanna tonight, and the crimson woman is in labor. Lightning tears through the sky out of nowhere, and for a moment it is so bright it could be daytime. Now that her water has broke, the foal seems to be wasting no time trying to claw his way out of her womb. Did he actually give her a damn half-dragon colt?! The outburst of thunder that trails the lightning spooks her already unstable frame, and this time she cannot keep steady. The mare goes down, fall cushioned by the nest she had so carefully been crafting since her arrival.
Sides heaving, she lie there, bellowing for her mate again, dragging her head across the earth. The organic treatment has at last started making it’s way through her system, and she settles noticeably. Blinded by the drizzle and the darkness, she concedes to the wave of exhaustion that washes over her and closes her eyes. Fidgeting and restless, she struggles to find a comfortable position, so she allows her limbs to do whatever they want. Another contraction now and she endures almost silently. Willing her mind and body to stave off the necessary discomfort, again her jaw is clamped together and she blows hard from her nostrils. Lightning strikes again, the flash bright even behind her eyelids.
Desperate to not allow her other half to miss yet another birthing, she sends out a mental message, hoping the invisible tether that seems to bind them together (no matter the distance) will pull him to her once more.
Just open your window and follow your memory upstream to the meadow in the mountain where we counted every falling star.
i have no fear, i have only love
@[Amet] Come on Daddy Dragon! <3