"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
It had been late in the season when he had come to her, spinning his fantasy of happily ever after. Or almost, anyway. There was a dragon in his tale, and it lingered over his shoulder even while they lay together. His wife.
She had welcomed him, though. She always did, even now when she knew she was the other woman. The other other woman, if she was being really honest with herself. If there was ever a time for honestly, it was now.
Soon, so soon that she had been certain that it had gone wrong. That her body had rejected their coupling as a sign from the gods that theirs was a damned romance. It had taken her by surprise that she was pregnant at all. There had been no sign of it in the brief weeks after he had gone home. No swelling of her belly, or uneasy stomach. Life had gone on as usual, just her and her half-grown tigerling in the island's sun.
When the spasms had started, they were mild enough to be dismissed as something badly eaten. A simple roiling in her gut that hadn't phased her much. As the day had worn on however, the feeling had intensified. Pressure, insistent and demanding had pushed her to the water. Anything to relieve the odd weight that had seized her.
It was there, and then it passed. She'd more than half expected flatulent gasses bubbling behind her. That's what it had felt like. The water warmed around her thighs instead, and a surprised glance backwards drew her attention to a golden slip of something beneath a ribbon of blood. The water rolled over it, threatened to drag it deeper into her bay, away from her. She grabbed it first. Teeth met leathery toughness. Curling ropes reached for her on the cresting wavelet, and a dark heart nestled in the center of the strange object. This was not how it was supposed to be.
Her first fear was that this was all that would exist of their child. Some bizarre malformation that might have been a foal in another mare's womb. She couldn't breath for long moments, before a different memory reached through the fog of invoking panic. It was large. Much larger than any previous specimen she had seen. But the resemblance was there. An eggcase, translucent and rugged, with the very beginnings of life held within. Her child.
That had been moons ago, the eggcase had been anchored in the shallows of her bay, just deep enough that low tide would not expose it to the drying air. She had introduced Halcyon to the burgeoning sibling, and had set wards of stone and water to keep the more curious sea creatures away from it. And so the golden life began to form.
She had minded it closely, watched with fascinated adoration as what had began as a shadow in the case expanded, developed. For a small span of days, she had been able to watch the humming heart beating frantically in the sunlight before the flesh had knit over it. The shape had taken form over days and weeks. It would be a lie if she had said she'd somewhat expected that the little thing would look more fish than horse, but legs curled under the covers, a finely shaped head pressed into the steadily shrinking space.
When other mare's sides were stretching wide, then slimming down once more with the arrival of new foals, Aquaria knew it wouldn't be long. Her sides were curved no more than usual, but the anticipation was the same. This was the expectation she had missed with Hal. When the days were stretching toward long summer heat, she began to worry again that something had gone wrong. There was no more space inside the purse, she could no longer distinguish limbs and body within the darkened walls. If it went much longer, she would tear the case open herself, and mourn whatever potential had died within.
She needn't have worried.
The moon was a sliver in the sky, barely anything at all when he hatched. He had wriggled and pushed for all he was worth, straining at the tight bounds that had been his haven for an eternity. It was tiring work, dark and cold, but at last the husk gave way. From that first tear it had been a much simpler thing to rush from containment into the endless ocean.
He had shot into the starlit waters without aim, drawn to the deep with instinct he was too young to understand or fight. The enthusiasm was there, even if the coordination was not. Between the confusion of his limbs and the stones set at the cove's mouth to keep the hungry out, it kept him in. He splashed experimentally within his new world for a few minutes, before the sheer experience of living in a world so much larger than he was overwhelmed the colt.
Already he was improving in his swimming efforts, enough so that to reach the shore was an easy task. There were large mounds piled against the sand some way up the shore, whistling air flowing along them. He paused where the water still lapped at his heels, sudden exhaustion overcoming his tiny strength. With the fragment of moon lighting on his pale, hairless skin, the newly born nereid curled up between sea and sand, waiting to be discovered.
Halcyon has been busy the last few weeks, and when asked will tell his mother that he’s ‘working on something to show Pteron’. Momma doesn’t ever probe farther when he brings up their frequent visitor, the colt has found. The boy doesn’t question why, even though Aquaria’s muteness about him when he is gone is so very different from the luminous when Pteron is here. Hal enjoys the days that Pteron comes. He likes to show the older horse his favorite parts of the island, and in exchange Pteron will sometimes give him sparring lessons. The something that he is working on is an idea Halcyon had during the stallion’s most recent visit, while the stallion was telling him about the location of the most breakable bones in the body.
The ease with which he is able to assemble a complete equine skeleton ism, perhaps, a but startling. There is an abundance of bones in the waters of Ischia, and there has been for as long as Halcyon can remember. It is as much a part of the island as the bioluminescent waves and the little green parrots. The first few days he’d picked up everything he’d found, piling the bones in a clearing about a half-mile from the shore, not wanting to risk them getting swept out in a storm or high tide. He’s pieced most of them together, but the one thing he is missing is a skull. Most he finds are crushed inwards, and the search for a whole one stretches on.
That is why he is on the beach on the nearly moonless night. The adolescent tiger strolling down the beach has almost reached his adult height, but there is a lankiness to his young body that suggests he still has some filling out to do. His clawed pads leave distinctive tracks in the damp sand as he pads his way down the beach. Halcyon pauses at an unfamiliar smell, motionless save for his twitching nose and flicking tail. There, a few more meters down the beach, a dark shape that is not the washed-up kelp Halcyon had assumed it was.
Cautiously, he moves closer. The thing is alive, and he wonders if perhaps it is a sea lion. Halcyon had almost caught a sea lion once, but the pup’s mother was much faster than Hal had expected, and a smack with a heavy tail had meant a missed meal. This lump does’nt look to have a mother nearby, the tiger sees, stepping ever closer.
It's not a seal though either, he sees. It’s a horse, but a strange one. Extending one white paw, Halcyon taps the foal on the side, doing his best to be gentle.
The sea bound colt had no sooner drifted off to sleep in the warm sand when a gentle prodding startled him awake. A shrill whistle vibrated his throat as he blinked blurry eyes up at the golden shape standing over him. Jewel-bright, his green eyes batted a few more times, trying to bring the world into focus.
Slowly, the soft edges of the inquisitive newcomer became more clear to his newborn sight. Fuzzy, fluffy stripes, gleaming yellow eyes. A more coltish wuffling puffed through his lips, the knobby kneed youngster edged closer. "Squeeer?" He asked, squeaky nonsense in any language.
A sudden spurt of energy sent him wobbly to his feet, the sand loose and strange beneath him. So very different from the water that had held him, guided his motions. His knees buckled seconds after they had reached their upright positions, tumbling the strange boy into his furry finder. He huffed in frustration. Maybe the broad-faced creature would have a better idea on how to move away from the waves?
The shrill noise that his gentle tapping elicits from the golden thing startles Halcyon. He nearly buffets it away with another motion of his white paw, but reason quickly overtakes instinct and instead he places the foot back on the white sand.
The thing has green eyes, green like the tropical jungle of their island, and aqua markings that match those of the stallion for whom Hal is currently collecting bones. The tiger’s head tilts, and his golden eyes narrow. Did Pteron leave this baby on the beach? Worried about the possibility that his friend might be replacing him with this yellow-ish foal, Halcyon doesn’t notice that the foal is trying to stand until it falls into him.
Halcyon huffs irritably, but his mother has raised him well and he gently leans into the little horse until it is standing back up again. Halcyon had learned to walk not terribly long ago himself, and recalls how wobbly he had been. Maybe once the baby is standing it can tell him where it came from.
“Can you talk?” he asks it, his white-tipped tail twisting in the sand as he settles back into a sitting position. “That squeaky stuff hurts my ears.”
A child not an hour old knows nothing of the world. As his elder brother prodded and examined him, the finned colt was less concerned with the sickle claws masked behind velvet paws, and more interested in the warmth that he felt radiating from the striped boy's coat. The patterned fur was soft and ticklish against the newborn's smooth skin.
When his first attempt to stand ended prematurely, the blue-tinged colt grumbled for a moment before trying again. This time went much more smoothly, the spindly lengths of his legs gathered up one at a time, huffy determination steeling the newly unfurled limbs pushing hard against the shifting sands. The deep green pools of his eyes gleamed triumphantly when he was able to stay upright.
One hesitant step, then another. The wobbly little colt tossed his head with the sheer joy in his own body's freedom. He blinked at the cat-boy when he started to make noises of his own. The broad paddle of his tail flipped up and down curiously. "Ta-" his nose scrunched at the strangness of sounds on his tongue. "Taaawk? Tawk. Tawktawktawk!" He chirped away, pleased with the new ability. It was different from the e whistles and song that just seemed to emerge from him without warning, but just as fun.
The dip dyed tips of his ears flopped on either side of his little head, bouncing with every little motion. "Tawk?" He asked, wondering what other sounds the furry cat could make. The straight length of his golden nose pushed forward inquisitivly. He snuffled eagerly at the dense fur ruff around the tiger's face, pressing closer to mouth the fluff. He smelled like the salt water the sea colt had just emerged from, and heavier, warmer things he had no names for yet.
His thin lips reached higher, to the tufted roundness of the tiger's ear. He sucked reflexively at the mouthful of cartilage. What he was trying to accomplish, he wasn't sure, but he kept trying.
Halcyon watches with golden eyes as the pale colt struggles to walk, still and patient. He even nods his striped head a little proudly when Cormorant manages it. The nod turns to a rapid shake of his head when the little colt repeats back the end of his question. His voice is less sharp than the squeaks from before, but barely so.
“Wow you are loud.” He says, but without sounding truly irritated. Babies can’t help it, his mother had told him, sometimes they are dumb ad annoying (this is not what his mother has told him, but it is the general gist of it that he had memorized). Aquaria had told him about being a brother in the recent months, though Halcyon wasn’t excactly sure why. He has always asked for a sibling, of course, but asking for one and expecting to get one are entirely different. Aquaria had stopped just short of telling him the explicit details of how a sibling might come to be, saying something about how Uncle Pteron might tell him. The young tiger is quite excited for this – Uncle Pteron always makes lessons fun.
Halcyon is prepared for a little brother or sister to be small and loud and bothersome, but what is is not prepared for is for them to suck at his ear.
“Mom!” he shrieks, but the sound is mostly a tiger’s yowl. He does’nt want to jerk away (you have to be gentle with a baby, Momma had said) but he wants this new brother to let go right away.
“That’s mine!” Halcyon tries, using his words. It would be easier to use his teeth or claws like he does when the fossas bite too hard during wrestling, but the little yellow colt looks rather fragile, and Halcyon knows Momma would be capital M mad if he broke what he strongly suspects is his younger brother.
02-06-2020, 10:54 AM (This post was last modified: 02-06-2020, 10:54 AM by Aquaria.)
aquaria
- THE TIDE IS HIGH, IT'S SINK OR SWIM -
The drowsing sea mare started awake at her son's voice. Her head shot up, eyes wide and searching as the rest of her body followed. "Halcyon? What is it? What's wrong?" She called out blearily. Their cove was still dimly lit in pre-dawn light, gold-green fingers of sun only just illuminating the horizon. Where the dark waves lapped at the sand, her tigerling seemed to be fighting a wriggling sea creature.
She trotted over, fins flared and head low and snaking. She reached close, snagged Halcyon by the scruff and tugged him away from whatever shark or... Whatever it was. When the cub was out of harms way, she turned to examine the strange visitor to their shore. And laughed. "Oh, look at you! You're finally here!" The pearly woman smiled jubilant at the wobbly colt sitting bewildered on the sand.
The colt wiggled excitedly, gangly legs kicking at the sand as he pushed close to this other warm body. She smelled sweet and salty, only the faintest suggestion of milk-scent clinging to her. It had taken a while for her milk to come in with Halcyon as well. An unfortunate side effect that came along with not having carried her children long enough for her body to recognize it. It would be coconuts for a little while, same as it had been for Halcyon.
She nudged him upward, encouraged her newborn to latch on despite the fact she knew he'd find no sustenance that way yet. It would help, eventually. Admiring the boy's sea-going features, she smiled up at the half grown tiger. "Come say hello, Hal. Your brother is here." She reached for the striped boy, smiling warmly. "He won't try to eat you." She eyed the boy's damp ear with wry amusement.
His keen ears pick up the sound of his mother’s voice, and though she sounds sleepy, she also sounds near. Halcyon remains very still. Some part of him realizes that the little colt has no teeth with which to bite, but he is still frozen by the decision he’d made, and doesn’t move until he’s tugged away by his mother.
Halcyon is just a little too large to be scruffed, but he goes limp anyway, feeling the rush of safety and contentment that come with the physical sensation. Letting her pull him away is easy, and he presses himself close to her side, peering around Aquaria’s front leg at the little colt.
Mother does seem excited to see it, but he is not sure what she means. He’s finally here? Where has he been? Halcyon doesn’t ask, but he does step farther away from where he’s pressed his damp ear to his mother’s elbow, and watches the little colt prance closer. He treats Momma the same way that Hal does, which confirms his suspicion, but there is still a streak of jealousy as the younger boy latches onto Aquaria. He’s been mostly weaned for a few months now, but sometimes when he was especially tired or troublesome or Momma was distracted, she’d still let him nurse (so long as he used the right teeth, of course). But the little colt had no teeth at all, which Halcyon suspects means that he has to nurse because he can’t eat anything else.
Sharing is not his favorite, he decides, but Momma seems very excited about this new brother, so Halcyon decides that he will do his very best to be excited too. Maybe, just maybe, this yellow colt will be the playmate he has always longed for.
At Aquaria’s encouragement, Halcyon steps around her, a little closer to his sibling.
“When can we wrestle?” He asks hopefully. “Uncle Pteron says I should pick on someone my own size and Brother is my size.” Halcyon is barely taller at the shoulder than the newly hatched colt, but that is true only in his tiger form. Since that is his only form (so far) though, the striped boy thinks that perhaps they will be a good match. “When is he gonna talk?” He asks. “He sounds like a seal. Or a cormorant. Squawk Squawk Squawk. ” Those last few words are also directed at the yellow foal, as though perhaps Halcyon thinks he might understand them better than the other words he’s said.
