And you know I'm loaded.. [Kirin;now open]

[Killgore]

The past few nights, she had avoided the others all together. Killgore had never experienced grief, that is, until the loss of her son. Her beautiful child. She slowly crossed the hills, doing her best to haunt the least travelled paths. A dark smudge on the horizon, her body moving rather mechanically. She didn't fully comprehend what she was feeling, she just wanted to escape it. To go to her safe place inside where nothing could touch her, where nothing could crack the surface. She could have peace enough to deal with the shock in her own way, but surely first she had to make a bit of a dissapearance. The others would likely keep Khaos busy for the time being, only a few more days until she would have to face the music. To admit her failure.

The spring grasses had really flurished, like a sea the tickled her under carriage, as she set to some mindless grazing. Anything to free her mind, if but for a while.

She didn't even notice the small purple blob curled up amid the greens. Not until she knocked it with her hoof, the object wiggling against her exposed dagger making her jerk in surprise. She peered down at a little being, head tucked beneath a feathered wing, it's slow breaths soft and dreamlike. Though the little one shivered dispite it's additional wind block. The shade perhaps good for afternoon sun was not all that comfortable in the morning hours.

Killgore raised her dignified dial, auds flicking as she listened, her eyes scanning the nearby treeline. Not a peep. Not a sight, she sniffed deeply an unfamiliar female reeking from the child. Yet, where was the mother? Not here that was for sure, the purple bundle quite alone now.

 

[Kirin]

Still a sticky mess, Kirin lay asleep amidst the tall grasses. Nesting in them quite like a bird, shielding himself from the cool air with a feathered purple wing. He snoozed rather soundly, having sweet dreams until he was stepped on. Or rather kind of kicked, he wiggled at the abrupt contact trying his best to remain frozen. He hadn't really seen mother, even after he had emerged on the outside. The place that was not warm and cozy, but was harsh and hard and cold. She hadn't cleaned him up very well, mainly she focused around the nose and mouth. Some slimy substance had dried to his hair now, she had told him to wait here after all, and so he did. Wait here for father.

The hoof had awoken him, rather sternly, a most unpleasant way to wake. Kirin gently babbled, "Mother? Father?" A long pause in response, the babes eyes crusted shut. "I waited right here like you said, but I'm cold and hungry. May I have something to eat now?" He asked softly,hoping it was indeed mother. He lifted his little head from underneath a folded wing, he hoped she would not leave him again.

Khaos x Urgle 'Killgore'|html by Call

[Killgore]

The child stirs, its voice low and meek. It's tiny purple body still covered in dried afterbirth, he speaks of his father. That his mother had left him here, told him to wait for his father. Father. Khaos. She decided that if any mare was stupid enough to leave a newborn babe here, then this little boy was the product of her lovers. A boy. The thought suddenly set in, driving home the twisted knife she felt in her breast, a feeling so strange and absurd she felt that she may break into a million pieces. She hurriedly swallowed the lump in her throat, the cogs in her mind, turning, cooking up a plan of action.

There were few witnesses to her own still born babe. Witnesses that words meant very little to herself, and even less to her mates. No one would believe them, she thought, her heart beating rapidly. She speaks ever so softly to the babe, her voice a sultry lullaby, one you would have to hear to believe. So gentle, as she peeled away the placenta still encasing the boys back legs, his head poking out, eyes a crusted mess. She answered his questions her own teats burning, filled so painfully with milk. "Mother is sorry love, shh shh. I had to be away but only for a moment, I will take you to father soon my sweet. He will love you so very much, like I do."She cleans his face next, removing the gunk from her boys hazle eyes, drinking him in. She was so very pleased with herself for this discovery, for this solution to her failure. She need not fail at all now.

After some time he manages to stand, his legs spindles of plum, just like that of his body and wings. Wings. They were gorgeous appendages, their feathers tickled her under carriage as the boy found her teats. The relief was rather immediate, as he drained the excess, her belly throbbed less and she felt a closeness with the little bird. Affectionate nibbles and kisses rained from her maw, touching him ever so lightly. The burning inside her chest long gone and forgotten.

"My darling boy. My Kirin." Her voice greeted by an excited tail, flickering ever so happily beneath her mass. Much too intent on filling its aching belly to talk.

[Killgore]

fast forward >>>

Killgore had spent the next few days with Kirin alone. The little plum hued babe had been a ravenous eater, and when he was not eating he was sleeping. Short bursts of play accompanied their rather scheduled daily routine, children were a lot of work. It had been almost too long now, another day and there might be questions. Perhaps there would be questions now even, but Killgore would lie. It was not even a lie really, not to her anyways. The Gods had taken what was rightfully hers, if anything she was owed the feathered tot. She was deserving of a child, not like the other mares. They had been rewarded with life, while she, the most deserving, had suffered the unmentionable.

It was hardly a somber thought any longer. Not now that she had Kirin, her special winged child. Her victory. She was rather pleased with herself, so much so that she had hardly stopped smiling. Her cheeks were sore and aching, but still she continued to work them. The expression odd, and unusual against her dark bay lips. She had kissed him, so many times she had. Reassuring herself he was indeed real, sending a message of love and security to the child. He had begun life thinking she had deserted him, but she would never leave him. A primal beast lurked in her heart, where there was room for Khaos, so there was room also for Kirin. Even more room perhaps. She would exhaust her body, feed him relentlessly, protect his life with her own. No one would touch her sweet child, not with I'll intent, not so long as she was around.

"My love," she coos, her voice a silken lullaby. "It's time to find Daddy now. Come Kirin."She nuzzled his face, he only returned to affection three fold, tiny tail wiggling like a mad man. She leads him back across the hills, onward towards Khaos and the herd.

 

[Kirin]

Kirin enjoyed laying with mother, these past few days had made up for her absence. He had decided to forgive her. She had come back, cleaned and fed him. That was enough for him,and mother didn't like when he was pouty anyways. She had told him several times that he had to be a 'big boy' a 'strong boy', and he did his best to show her he could.

Today she had nudged him, and told him it was time to go. They were going to see his father, he would be pleased to meet Kirin she said. He was special. Kirin noticed how plain his mother was, next to his plum colored fur and wings. She was adorned by nothing, but she exuded a sophisticated air that made her lovely. She told him that he was important, that they were important, so he believed it.

He found that his once wobbly legs were a thing of the past, the stilts that carried him now were strong. They walked every morning, some sort of training he was told, to help him build muscle. He supposed it worked, his limbs no longer ached the way they once had. Kirin was also made to stretch his wings daily, sometimes for no other purpose than to let mother look at them. He had yet take flight, though she insisted he would be able to.

On they went, the walk seemed to take for ever, Kirin grew impatient."Are we there yet?"

KhaosxUrgle|html by Call

[Khaos]

So far his children from this season have not been the most exciting lot.

He’s spent much of the early spring stalking down mares that he bred with, so that he can see the young that they’ve produced for him. And, he is rather disappointed. The silver mare he’d forced has had a daughter, and so has the odd zebra mare that he’d coupled with. Ghoest has given him a son at least, but the boy is entirely unremarkable. He still has yet to see the children of Noellen and Killgore however, though he does not have high hopes for Noellen’s spawn. But Killgore’s child …

With the mare’s spirit and lust for cruelty, she could give him the perfect heir.

But he hasn’t seen the spirited mare for several days.

He decides to seek her out and, much to his surprise, finds her rather quickly. He only has to head in the direction of the hills before she appears, strutting her way towards the beach. And there, at her heels, walks a little, dark figure.

“Killgore!” His interest is blazing and he cannot help but pick up speed as he heads to meet her. The closer he gets, the more characteristics of the child he is able to pick up, and the more excited he becomes. First and most importantly, the child is sporting a glorious pair of feathered wings. Second, the child is a dark, dark shade of purple. And third … it’s a boy.

This, is the kind of heir he’s been waiting for.

When he reaches them, he first reaches out to Killgore with an affectionate nuzzle and whispers a “hello beautiful,” before turning to loom over the boy. “Well, well, who’s this?!”

K H A O S

iron son of carnage and oswyn

hell is empty and all the devils are here

Reference here

[Killgore]

Perhaps any normal vixen might have had a shadow of doubt on her features. Ah, but Killgore had not come this far without learning the simple task of self preservation. In her mind she had done absolutely nothing wrong, she was convinced this was her flesh and blood child. So, he was perceived to be. The other? Well, she had written that off as, spoiled food induced sleep scares.

She was a picture of confidence, her bay pelt seemingly glowing. She felt radiant, carrying her dial high, she was a proud mother. The purple darling striding by her side, a practiced gait, dignified even.

His exclamation of her name brings a purr to her mouth, followed by a bright smile. She watches him gain momentum, his desire to look upon their progeny evident. His maw is tender upon her flesh, sending gooseprickles over her hide, he was simply marvelous. Her desire never seeming to cool or be satiated.
"My love, look at him, isn't he just beautiful." Her response is elated, eyes teeming with pride, smitten with the feathered tot.

 

[Kirin]

Funny, how he had just been asking if they were there yet. Now, before them, sped a large creature. A sheen glinting of his hide against the coasts looming sun. They had just about crossed the edge of the hills, when he had spotted them. Kirin could only assume it was his father nearing, mother looked so pleased.

Kirin settled himself, raising his head, just how mother had shown him. He was not to be afraid she said, he was not to show weakness, and so he did not. Instead he progressed forward, plum limbs steady against the changing terrain. His father called to them, well, called to mother. Her name emitting from his maw across the hill lands, he reached them shortly.

Kirin had never seen such a giant before, his father was enormous, even bigger than mother. His coat wasn't even a coat at all, instead it was a smooth iron surface. That too mother had told him of, Iron, father was made of Iron. After a quick exchange of words with mom, Kirin's father turned to him. Stepping over him, engulfing him in shadow. Kirin looked up at the iron stag,"Hello, father sir, I'm Kirin."

Khaosx'Killgore'(Urgle)|html by Call

[Khaos]

Killgore urges him to look at the boy, and his gaze returns without a fight. “Yes, yes he is.” Finally he has a son worthy of his interest.

He smiles down at the boy, still analyzing the boy’s appearance. He would have rather the boy be a colour other than purple, but he supposes it could be worse. He briefly wonders where on earth the purple could have even come from (he does not doubt the boy’s parentage, he can see similarities to himself in the young face), but then he remembers his sister Kalamity. Both of their parents are grey, but Kalamity had turned a pale lavender during adolescence. It must be something about the bloodline. It’s probably where the wings came from too - Carnage’s magical blood must run strong.

The little purple boy looks up at him, little neck craning up to look into Khaos’ face. For once Khaos’ smile is pleasant. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kirin.” It’s a good, strong sounding name. He approves. “How ‘bout you tell me about yourself.” He wonders how much the child takes after his parents. Does he have that same lust for blood and cruelty? Does he have the same passion for the dark side of life?

He sees so much potential in the boy - Kirin is special, very special. But, will he be able to become the heir that Khaos has been dreaming of? Only time will tell.

K H A O S

iron son of carnage and oswyn

hell is empty and all the devils are here

Reference here

[Killgore]

He agrees.

An expression of happiness sits across her maw in a smug smile, her pate rising, chest puffed out. Oh, how she loves it when they agree. She likes to be right, adores it even. Displaying body language coinciding with her feelings, making this very clear. Her dark orbs light up at his words, a syrupy melody to her cochlea. ”Of course he is, he is perfect. I couldn’t be more pleased, and his wings. Just imagine him chasing them down from on high.” It was wistful, perhaps a mothers dream for Killgore. What more could she want than for her child to terrorize others from the sky? She really couldn’t think of anything else right now, no this was her grand ideal, for now.

 More so she is happy that Kirin remembers what she has taught him. Standing straight, looking in the eyes, confidence, confidence!  A beautiful plum hued prince, he was nothing less in her eyes. No son of hers would be a mewling whelp, meek and cowering. She wouldn’t have it, wouldn’t allow it. It was all in how you raised them, what they were shown. She of course instructed him first and foremost on his position in life, his status. He was important, he had purpose, and he would be great. Especially if he believed, that’s what made it all true, one own convictions. The boy is smart, perhaps too smart for his own good, she would have to be vigilant.

She watches them admiringly as they interact; Khaos appears pleased with the boy. His ivories bare, but the gesture does not come across as forced. Kirin is presenting himself well; it could not have been more perfect.  His father goes even further by asking the child about himself, her ears swivel to catch the boy’s tones. He had better say something good, she thought.