"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Her instincts tell her that it won’t be long anymore before she will be going into labour. She had moved from the main island, the one that resided most of the Brotherhood, to one of the smaller ones west from the isle. Though significant smaller, this isle is still large enough to provide all she needs. There are ponds of fresh water, and lush green fields hidden under tropical canopy. But most of all, this one held a particular cave, the very same one as where she – and Kharon of course – had been born herself.
It is there, safely hidden from watching eyes, that the contractions force her down to the ground. Soon her flanks are damp, and her breath quick and heavy. Pain consumes her, and there is no way Kylin can flee from it. She does not hold back loud groans and soft pained cries, as she pushes the child out of her body little by little. It last only a short while, but locked in an endless circle of pain and doubt – and love, don’t forget that one – it feels like an eternity.
Once it is over, she does not move right away. Post contraction cramps keep her down. For a moment her mind had been at peace, the intense labour had not left room for anything else, but as her ear twitch – catching the sound of her baby moving – everything comes back to her tenfold. Fear and love. Because she does love the wet bundle behind her already, but also fear, because she is unsure of how to keep such fragile thing secured and safe.
Eventually instincts kick in, and with a groan she rolls herself up. Her front legs are stretched before her, and she uses them as leverage as she bend her neck and reaches out towards the obvious purple bundle on the ground. A soft nicker follows, both her lavender ears pointing forward as she gently touches the child’s wet nose for the first time. Kylin starts the cleaning tentative, the nose, the eyes, the entire head. It is all she can reach, and the sudden need to clean all of her child is enough motivation to drive her to her feet. The cord still linking them breaks, now dangling from the afterbirth that has still to come off. She is exhausted, but at the same time adrenaline rushes through her body. All what matters is the little wet bundle on the ground.
As she continues to clean the child, gently probing her with her muzzle, she discovers it’s a girl. Slowly the corners of her lips curl, and in her stomach something flutters. Her little girl. “Kyveli,” she softly whispers, her lips resting on the girl’s crest.
05-21-2018, 03:20 PM (This post was last modified: 05-21-2018, 04:28 PM by Kyveli.)
Kyveli
At first, what little conscience that the purple baby has developed in her time floating in the warm space of her mother's belly, had been very much content to stay there. She, it, belonged there, this was the world, but with each passing day, she grew or, the floating space was shrinking. A few movements here, a kick there, was all her instinct, until suddenly she wasn't floating any longer, and somehow she was positioned headfirst towards the birth canal. There was no pain for the baby when her mother pushed - fluids and muscles protecting her from all those things, she had been aligned rightly, and that was that.
But it was so COLD out here! Still damp from the amniotic fluid and honestly, unaware that she would be able to move after such a long confinement, she just lay there for a while on the rock where the lavender-and-white figure of her previous world had just given life to her body, until the cold and dripping fluid made her itch into movement. Or, life - only when a nostril was cleaned, she breathed in deeply, a small cry exerting her body, an instinct old as life itself to fill the lungs with air and start the beating of the heart which would never stop until the day her life would end - in her case, this could be a very long time, although the purple baby would naturally not be aware of any of this for her first decade or so. Her mother - her world - cleaned more than just that, her tongue softly forced her eyes open, and when her mother stood shadowing over her and cleaned her further, the baby girl was happy - the cleaning made her far less cold, and made her feel loved, a feeling new to her like all the feelings, but it was definitely a keeper. Especially compared to the cold - she definitely disliked that one.
She had no words to respond to her mother's soft nicker and the name she gave her, instead cooing a yawn-like reply that would probably sound like 'maaah?' to anyone listening, her little head leaning in for contact - contact was what she'd always had with her mother, and she longed for so much more of that warm tenderness that her mother spread.
I only wanted to one time see you laughing in the purple rain
A change is upon the mythical lands of Beqanna. It is a more natural occurance though. One that comes every year just like a season. New life emerges just as the foliage returns. It is a happy time, or at least should be...
He knows she carries his child. A beautiful creation of love, he is sure. He does love her. More than just family or a friend. Though he is unsure she feels truly the same. Kylin had not accepted his offer of a home. A family. She had chosen the island over him. It stung, just a lot, but he wouldn't give up. Not yet.
It is early when he wakes to a feeling that she needs him. He doesn't doubt his instincts and quickly he is lifting into the morning sky. Weak rays of light beam from behind the islands canopy, creating a halo-like outline. It is truly a sight to behold, but his gaze doesn't last long. He was on a mission to find her and he knew where he should look...
The small plots of land on the west side is where he had found her once before. She had been a broken mess than and he'd like to think he helped her to the light. Life was short and not worth wasting(he is unaware that time does not count for her). Banking around the mainland, another cast of his lavender wings bring him just above the scattered bogs of land. Silver-hazel eyes scan the ground until they spot movement below. Immediate identification is unknown but he chances it all the same. If it was her, he wasn't wasting any time.
Wings bend to drop him from the embrace of ocean breeze, legs extend to reach for the fast approaching terrain. He comes upon a sandy plain and jogs a few lengths before coming to a stand. Head high and ears searching for the slightest of sounds. There is a slight rustle of vegetation leading him to walk towards the treeline. Gently his voice calls out her name, "Kylin...?" Lavender crown tips to one side to move his view beyond a tall bed of plant life. Something of a amethyst hue is hidden from plain sight, so he halts to wait for affirmation...
Perfect, is the only way to describe the purple going to lavender girl. To Kylin she is the most beautiful girl in the whole world, but honestly, the filly would have been that even if she had been mutated or born with missing limbs. It is the way a mother loves her child, and love, that Kylin does, wholeheartedly. Never, ever, would she have imagined that she could love like this, unconditionally, and it lifts the meaning of the word to a whole new level.
It does not escape her attention how the girl leans into her touch. For a moment, they are each other’s whole world. And right then she knows that she won’t ever feel alone again. How could she, with such a wonderful creature to call hers? Kylin nickers again, sweet and soft, with her muzzle still pressed close against Kyveli. Kyveli. Her stomach flutters, and a lovesick smile tugs on the corners of her lips. Perfect little Kyveli. Lovingly her lips fumble with the still wet poll, unable to pull away.
Not until she hears her name being called. Slowly her head lifts, and Kylin has to blink her eyes. Their little bubble is broken, well, not entirely, but the lavender woman is pulled out of the pre-labour haze. Her ears swirl, and her heart skips another beat. She whinnies back, not too loudly, but loud enough, and the little cave’s echo adds to the reach. Klaudius. He is here for her, no for them. And oh, she wants him near so desperately. She is both excited and reluctant to share the little wonder that is theirs.
Anticipation holds her heart in its grasp, and although her eyes are locked on the purple and lavender filly, her ears never stop moving, ready to catch the sound that would signal his approach.
The kind whicker emitted is welcoming to his ears. The cords float to him in a familiar tone, causing a relieved smile to find his lips. Willing himself to approach, his head parts the thick foliage to find the lavender and cream mare hovering over a purplish body. Her eyes attentively fixed on the life she has just birthed.
Cautiously he nears her. His muzzle resting against her hip as he comes up along her side. His head then lowers to gaze upon their creation. The bright amethyst filly wiggles about and he greets her with a soft whicker. Nudging the child gently with the bridge of his nose before rising slightly, "What name did you choose?" He inquires of the mare. It was only right she chose it.
When he gathers the name, he tastes it upon his own tongue, "Kyveli." It causes him to smile happily as he gazes upon her again. The filly was beautiful in every way, just as he expected. Just like its mother. His head turns to Kylin and brushes along her cheek, "She's beautiful Kylin."
Even the excitement of meeting his daughter did not hide the lingering scent he finds on Kylin's flesh. Instantly his eyes see images of the beach, of the battlegrounds, of Sylva. Ivars' scent was linked to so many things in his life and suddenly his walls crumble around him. The ex-king's sudden aroma present now, must mean he has returned.
Returned for Kylin.
The sudden thought causes him to lean away from her. Not wanting to upset the child though, he doesn't move far. He silently questions Kylin with no more than his posture and look of betrayal on his face. Was this what, no, who she had been waiting for? Why she wouldn't leave the island? His head shakes the thoughts away. This moment was to precious to be ruined by such thoughts. Again he leans in to press his muzzle into Kylin's neck. Whispers leave his lips, "You have your family now. The one you always wanted."Even if it didn't involve him anymore, he wants to add.
The dark purple girl is as satisfied as she'd always been - that is until she has a little weird, rumbling sound coming from her stomach, and a kind of aching that is near to pain - discomforted, she makes a face and, instinctively tries to move about now that her mother has done cleaning her.
As she pulls out a shaky foreleg from under her purple body, she makes a soft 'ooh' sound, seeing that the bottom half of it is the same colour as her mother. She waves it at her, completely forgotten that she was to stand on it, as if to show 'see! I'm like you!' but this act makes her roll over on her back.
Doing so, she understands why her mother doesn't pay so much attention to the colour match - someone's coming! He's huuuge (from her position on the ground that is), and she awes at him almost as much as she had at her mother; but this one doesn't lick her clean or cuddle her, this one is not where she came from, this one was not her world. In fact, he takes the attention of her world away, and for that, she dislikes him at the moment.
She eyes the two adults, unaware of whatever conversation they have, not understanding the words. But then he says her name, Kyveli, and her dark purple eartips swivel to catch the sound. So different from mother's! And then something else, similar to her own name, but he doesn't look at the amethyst baby then. Kylin. Is that the word for her world? She blinks, but seeing that the mare and stallion are both standing, the filly finally attempts what she was supposed to do some time ago now, before rolling over - folds her legs under herself and wobbly makes for a stand; she falls but, very conveniently, into Kylin's side, so she doesn't really drop back to the rock floor any more.
It doesn't help - the talking stranger is still huge, and by now he's also taking up the other side of her mother's by hugging her! If she knew what to call the feeling, it would be jealousy, but for now, she settles with a wide-eyed glare.
I only wanted to one time see you laughing in the purple rain
“Yes..” she murmurs with a laugh in her voice as the girl accidentally rolls onto her back, emotion thick in her voice. “You are like me..” But not only her, she resembles Klaudius quite a lot too. A perfect combination of them both, almost too perfect. Forever she would be a reminder of her father.
She shifts her weight slightly, but enough to press her hip back against the touch of his muzzle. Kylin simply cannot help it. In return, her own muzzle finds his neck to press against as he lowers his head to inspect their little miracle. “Kyveli” she tells him smiling. How could she not continue the family tradition and have her name start with a ‘K’? Her parents always had, and Klaudius’ twins have ‘K-names’ too. It seemed right. “She is, isn’t she?”
The birth should be a happy moment – which it was – but his distance hurts. She leans into his touch, but even in her happy post labour state, she does not miss his dismay. Next he leans away, and questions her with a look that freaking hurts. What was he referring to? Why did he look hurt? He is the one that had left. For Kyveli’s sake, he does not say a thing, but Kylin cannot get herself over if when he leans in and nuzzles her neck. Nonetheless, she leans in, sighing softly – content. Until his words reach her ears.
It is enough to make her pulls away, and direct her teary hazel eyes at him as hurt flashes over her face. Our family. Or is he really abandoning them? It surely sounds like that. Her heart hurts, and her stomach pulls together, but she does not say a thing. And Kyveli’s attempt to stand up effectively claims her attention. Hurt is not the only thing in her eyes, worry too, as she bends her neck to lightly touch the purple filly’s still damp rear. “Easy Kyli” she murmurs, as she shifts her weight to stand on four hooves, the only thing she can do to give her daughter support.
She notices how Kyveli is watching Klaudius, with Kylin standing in between them as a huge obstacle. A lump forms in her throat, which she desperately tries to swallow. “This is your father, little Kyveli” she murmurs, her hazel gaze locked on the purple ombre lavender girl. Softly she nudges her, trying to stir the girl in the direction of her utters, knowing she must be hungry.
He sees the depth of hurt in her eyes, but does she his. Does she know how leaving kills him inside but how this islands was not home. Not anymore. The memories that haunt this place only will him to leave its shores again and again. And now, will his first daughter trapped here and the love of his life unwilling to leave, defeat burdens him.
In the moment he smiles. It is a bitter sweet one, as he sees Kylin and their daughter content and happy. He would not ruin their happiness anymore. Nothing but a stain on their lives now. He nudges his muzzle into her neck firmly, where the scent of kelpie still lingered. Then with a heavied heart he steps from her side, towards their perfect creation. Head lowering to brush his muzzle along her lavender crest, as he had done to all his children before, and whispers into her smallish ears, "Beautiful Kyveli."
His head rises again and turns to view the cream and lavender mare. Again he smiles but says nothing, he has said it all before and nothing had changed. She has her island, her family now. He would just ruin it and so his limbs carry him into the open again, wings unfolding from his sides to thrust him into the Ischia sunset one last time...
The amethyst filly doesn't have much of an attention span, to be honest. Her stomach feels like it contracts, and when her mother nudges her towards the teats, she easily latches on to drink. Something so easily done for the girl - eat, sleep, repeat.
However, there is more talking and as soon as she's done, she's again distracted. More words are offered. Father, Klaudius. Well that is way too long to copy. "Fah, Lau?" she tries but, giggles when the lavender winged man comes near and touches her muzzle. She likes the words he speaks more for the tone in which he does, but that does nothing to her feeling of satisfaction and happiness. And when he leaves, he does even the best thing yet, leave her mother all to herself. Kylin. "Momma." she decides on, turning to bury her face in her mother's side again.
I only wanted to one time see you laughing in the purple rain
@[Kylin] @[Klaudius] super short but eh, make something of it, or wrap it up
Kylin does see the pain in his eyes, but she does not know the full reason behind it. She does not understand why he has to leave, why he wouldn’t stay. Were they – she and Kyveli – really not enough for him to stay? Her heart hurts at the thought, her last hope of keeping Klaudius in Ischia is now gone.
It does not stop her from sighing content when he presses his muzzle firmly against her skin. She leans into it, and even bends her neck to quickly bush her own lips across his cheek. The smile is genuine, and both happy and sad. Kylin stays silent when he moves from her to their daughter, unable to not smile when the girl attempts to repeat after her. It’s adorable, and she cannot help but to love it. All of it.
What she does not like is Klaudius leaving. Her hazel eyes are locked on his, but she does not return the favour of smiling. Instead she extends her neck, to touch him, but it is not enough to stop the winged lavender male from leaving. Tears wet her eyes, and her heart crumbles with each step that he takes. He has turned his back on them. The child that was supposed to bind him to her side, is left behind with her. She nickers softly, one last time, just before he disappears from sight.
But not a single part of her thinks of following. She’s exhausted, both physically and mentally, and there is no way she could leave little Kyveli behind. Kylin bends her neck, to press her muzzle gently but firmly at the girl’s crest, smiling through the tears that threaten to spill, but tears she also refuses to show Kyveli. She must be strong. For both of them. “Yes, my little girl, I’m your momma.”
@[Klaudius]
@[Kyveli]
We can either continue or wrap it up with my post ^^
