11-15-2020, 07:40 PM
She surprised even herself when she momentarily gave in to Varick’s gentle charms. Naturally, Sabbath blames her raw heart on seeing their son ill and the kind way in which his father doted on him until he was well again. Honest affection toward her children was always such a weak point of hers. And, if she’s being entirely truthful with herself, she only regrets it because of the pain in her ankles right now. The twins have gone mostly still the past several days, with so little room to move within her belly. That, coupled with her lack of appetite, cues her that it is time to retreat to the quiet of her den.
Crowns has grown so much, though he remains lanky and slender in his youth, and he still pokes his head in every hour to tell her something he’s learned or seen. He can’t empathize, she reminds herself. Sabbath finally sends him on an errand to find her father and learn one of his tired old stories, or perhaps her grandfather can regale the boy with the horrors of war. They’re always delighted to drone on about those things for hours, which will buy her all the time she needs. And maybe he’ll learn something.
Shortly after he’s promised to seek them out, her contractions build from occasional pangs to rolling waves of aching hips. She snarls at the pain and bares her teeth. Her wild green eyes focus on the entrance to her den where she assumes Varick is lingering just outside. She wouldn’t blame him. She would probably try to eat him again if he came too close right now, but only because of the pain this time.
With gritted teeth and heavy breaths, their second son slips from her. Sabbath lifts her head and stares at him for a moment. He’s a perfect blend of them both, with his father’s scales and a little nub of a horn on his forehead. It draws a smile to her tired face even when her body plunges through another contraction. Their daughter arrives easily, angrily crying at the cold and the sound of her own voice. The serpent woman laughs and stumbles up onto her unsteady legs.
“You both have your father’s scales. How beautiful,” she coos gently as she begins to clean them. She hadn’t cared for the way her own body glowed and grew beautiful overnight, but she’s thankful for it as she admires their daughter. It contrasts the annoyed look in her eyes perfectly. “You look like a Katarine, I think.”
And then she kisses the colt’s temple with an airy delicacy.
“But what to name you, little twin?"
Crowns has grown so much, though he remains lanky and slender in his youth, and he still pokes his head in every hour to tell her something he’s learned or seen. He can’t empathize, she reminds herself. Sabbath finally sends him on an errand to find her father and learn one of his tired old stories, or perhaps her grandfather can regale the boy with the horrors of war. They’re always delighted to drone on about those things for hours, which will buy her all the time she needs. And maybe he’ll learn something.
Shortly after he’s promised to seek them out, her contractions build from occasional pangs to rolling waves of aching hips. She snarls at the pain and bares her teeth. Her wild green eyes focus on the entrance to her den where she assumes Varick is lingering just outside. She wouldn’t blame him. She would probably try to eat him again if he came too close right now, but only because of the pain this time.
With gritted teeth and heavy breaths, their second son slips from her. Sabbath lifts her head and stares at him for a moment. He’s a perfect blend of them both, with his father’s scales and a little nub of a horn on his forehead. It draws a smile to her tired face even when her body plunges through another contraction. Their daughter arrives easily, angrily crying at the cold and the sound of her own voice. The serpent woman laughs and stumbles up onto her unsteady legs.
“You both have your father’s scales. How beautiful,” she coos gently as she begins to clean them. She hadn’t cared for the way her own body glowed and grew beautiful overnight, but she’s thankful for it as she admires their daughter. It contrasts the annoyed look in her eyes perfectly. “You look like a Katarine, I think.”
And then she kisses the colt’s temple with an airy delicacy.
“But what to name you, little twin?"
may my enemies live long so they can see me prosper.
sabbath