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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    if the truth has been forbidden then we're breaking all the rules; Eld, Wichita
    #1
    If the truth has been forbidden, then we're breaking all the rules.
    The not being able to fly thing was really getting her down.  Or keeping her down, as it were.  Arrya missed her wings, missed the wind caressing her whole body, missed the quiet and the views and the breathlessness of going just a little too high.  She missed being able to leap off a cliff and soar, hitching a ride on thermals that sent her body and her mood spiraling up, up, up!  She missed dancing with Gendry in the sky.

    But she was getting huge, and even if her wings were capable of carrying the extra weight of almost-waddling-stage pregnancy she wasn’t about to put her little one at risk just for the sake of a thrill.  Even if being grounded was starting to make her feel like a beached whale, stranded on land with no hope of escape until the tide came in.  Or, in her case, until the baby came out.  Details.

    Arrya was used to being small and fast and agile.  Scruffy and inconspicuous too, and now she felt…like a giant goddamn target, a dead weight.  She was still tiny height-wise, sadly.  Gendry still towered the fuck over her with that deliciously appealing, tall-bright-and-sexy way of his, with all those lovely ripply muscles and the light playing on his skin as he moved…mmm…oh wait, what?  Right!  She was still tiny when it came to height, but her belly was blowing up like a bullfrog’s throat, except full of giant-spawn.  Fluffy, cuddly, adorable little giant-spawn, but all taking up her insides and stomping on her bladder and getting bigger, bigger, always getting bigger.

    The baby kicked, and it was still new enough that it distracted her from her angsty little yearning for the sky and put a dopey little grin on her face.  Good morning to you too, baby.  You sure are getting strong, huh?  Those kicks were going to maul the hell out of her insides when she was closer to giving birth, no doubt.  But they were a good sign.  Gendry was always there to take care of her and the baby if something went wrong, but it reassured her when the little one squirmed and kicked and made signs of life.  

    It made her feel better that he had an eye on her too, making sure she was healthy despite the strain of growing two whole new people inside her.  She’d never even met her birth mother, so she couldn’t ask how her birth had gone.  She didn’t know if she was the firstborn, or the only, or if she had a dozen siblings running around.  She couldn’t ask whether it had been hard, whether her mother had been in labor forever, whether anything had gone wrong.  She would never know, and she’d…well, she’d thought she was okay with that.  She didn’t need blood family when she had Gendry.  And they were making their own blood family.  

    Know what, though?  You’re never gonna have to feel that way about me, not for a moment.  I’m always going to be here for you, always.  I’m going to tell you how much I love you so much you’ll get sick of it.  You’ll roll your eyes at your sappy old mom—who will, by the way, be looking damn good again by the time you’re at the eye-rolling age—but deep down it’ll give you the warm fuzzies because you’re never, ever, ever going to wonder if your parents gave a damn about the life they created.  You were on purpose.  We want you in our lives, we’re ready for you to happen, and we love you so damn much.  And we’re never gonna let you forget it.  And we’re wrangling up your aunties and your uncles, and you’ve got a cousin floating around somewhere, and a grandma who’s going to geek the fuck out about you and probably find a way to spoil the shit out of you even from half a world away.  All waiting for you.  But take your time.  I only get you to myself like this for a little while.

    Elaborate internal monologue aside, Arrya was doing some wandering, keeping a weather eye on the sky and catching glimpses of a certain someone in falcon shape watching out for her as she got a bit of exercise and maybe actually some social interaction, gods knew why she wanted it.  She’d never been social before, perfectly content to while away hours with herself and her Gendry and…well, her Rhory back before that had fallen apart.  Still, seemed like she wanted it more these days, so she headed for the Meadow to find…well, she wasn’t really sure yet.  Maybe…maybe someone who’d had a kid before, or who was pregnant too, or maybe just company.  So tiny, scruffy bay Arrya ambled.  Not waddled.  Ambled.  Into the Meadow, all nonchalant-like.  No big deal, just deliberately attempting to bond with another female.  What, it was totally possible.

    Right?
    Arrya.
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    #2


    Snow was not my friend. Snow was an obscene enemy of mine, that I was now a hundred percent sure of. The white backdrop was sure a beautiful thing, like a landscape from a fairytale. I'd imagined many things coursing through the burrows of snow, flurries cascading around entangling limbs, laughter, smiles. It was all such a fanciful affair, to dream, to be of such whimsy. But for me? For me the snow was quite the bothersome quest.

    Strawberry toned limbs shuffle through the dunes of ivory; vast feathers slick with clumps of snow, my hooves like stilettos as I threw each leg infront of the other with such purpose, such concentration. My viridian eyes were so attuned upon where my feet were going, that I wasn't entirely looking up. With a rather inelegant stumble, my knees met the ground, but with quite a productive roll of my shoulders, I didn't make it all the way to the ground -- there was something quite precious blossoming within, something that I was holding quite dear. And like a gift, I held it with gentle hands. And was as careful as a bumbling mare could get.

    I rolled over the meadow, at an easy, leisurely pace. When one as large as I already had issues with travel, it was a damn sight more hard work when my barrel heaved with life. Inwardly I was cursing myself for falling for Texas's charm, but there were far more worse things out there than his quaint smirk and his errant tongue. The very thought brought a smile to my face, as I ventured the trek from the Falls to the Meadow. Something about getting another burst of exercise, and randomly telling stories to the bump.

    'A funny thing happened here, a year ago now. Seems strange that is was so long ago!' I laugh almost, the sound slips from my lips with a haze of breath, as I turn and gently touch my hefty stomach. 'You mother isn't the safest on her feet -- I sure hope you don't inherit my clumsiness. May the heavens help you dear one!' my tone slips, sultry and course. My ears twist, falling back against my crown. Having been walking whilst swinging my head and babbling on, I did not see that another was in my path. I halted just before collision. And as my eyes graced her form, I was thankful I didn't. Another in my own predicament. As hefty as a barrel -- but dear her, she was far larger than I. Twins? Triplets? She sure might have her work cut out for her. I smile, something infectious, as genuine as the snow promised skies. 'Beg my pardon, I hope I didn't disturb you?' I hold back the rest of the babble, keeping my lips tightly pursed. Before the smile breaks and I allow myself a little more conversation (when all I've been doing is rambling on, keeping a lid on all my thoughts had been a saviour.) 'I'm Eld.'

    E L D
    - i'm a wishful thinker with the best intentions -
    acolyte of the falls


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    #3


    It was a short walk from the Gates to the Meadow, well, it should have been a short walk there. Not this year, not for the last two years. She was again pregnant, not that being with foal was terrible. However, it made navigating through snow drifts quite the task.

    Wichita was all of 14.3 hands, her frame was what some might consider small or petite. Pony like even, if you were to take consensus. Still though, it might be hard to lose her dark form against the blinding white of the frozen landscape. Her coat had come in thick and coarse, a shaggy unbecoming thing that she did not care for.  Parted from its life saving warmth, she might think differently. Her milk chocolate eyes were adorned with gold Egyptian cat eye markings, giving an exotic look to the otherwise southern belle. A contradiction to her honeyed southern drawl.

    Tiny ice crystals drift peacefully down from the sky, covering the world in their white cloak.  The silver dapple mare wasn’t sure why she had decided to brave the chilled terrain. Perhaps she was bored, or lonely, or both. As of late Tioga, her eldest, had lost interest in ‘hanging with mom.’ Her friend Fiasko, though she tried, had her hands full with the twins, on top of running a kingdom. Voudou had been taken to the Chamber, stolen by a large bay brute called ‘Killdare.’ Mast and Jason both were away on diplomatic meetings. Reuen was, well, Reuen was a dear friend as well, but the girl wasn’t for much in the conversation department. Not that Wichita held it against the girl, she was mentally broken. Rapscallion, he was, well, she didn’t know what he was but she did one hell of a job distancing herself from him once they returned from their own kingdom visits.

    Winter was a poor choice to seek new friendships perhaps, but she wasn’t known for making good choices. No, mostly she was considered a pushover, a weakling. Or so she thought she was perceived as much, it was something she was desperately trying to work on. Wichita perks up, noticing a very small group of mares, two to be exact. One is rather small, like herself, though she is twice as large around. The other was a giant red roan, and they were both pregnant. She had seen enough pregnant women in her lifetime to know for sure, to know without asking.
    She approaches somewhat cautiously, though not as careful as she could be. ”Mind if I join yall?” She asks hopefully, being polite enough to invite approval first.


    Adept Diplomat of the Gates

    html by Call


    sorry for this poo..visitors come to sit with us and listen at work...tried to squeeze something out for yall before they come to my console. Also is the white writing hard to see on here? looks fine on work comp and phone but g-mas computer it was terribly hard to see D:
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