She was not quite what you would call refined.
The sound of eager footsteps draws her attention. There are so few here that she learned to recognize most by the sound of their tread, even before the light was stolen away. These feet fall in a familiar pattern, but more heavily than she recalls, it makes placing the boy before he arrives - a face flickering in the red blaze of fire, frowning, serious - more difficult.
To think that her own child would be this boring! Her eyes trip over him, counting the familiar birdcatcher spots dotting across him like the constellations hidden away behind the immutable clouds. Now, what was his name supposed to be?
"Avocet!" She grins wide into his distress, ignoring the conflict and confusion that tumble together in the storm of his gaze, "I'm so glad you're here!"
Her small hooves carry her to the boy, and she, capricious, mercurial, greets him more warmly than she has ever greeted him or his feral sister. The fire has raised her spirits high as the thermals of Nerine, not to mention remembering the name she had given him in that far-away fever-dream. @[avocet]. She finds that the neglected twins claim a small thread in her mind, though there is no particular feeling of concern or joy or love there for either, but she does recall the familiarity of them, and the boy, in particular, tucked beneath her wings. Motherhood is a strange thing which she does not understand.
"I was certain the Creatures would have eaten you by now," Her embrace loosens, instantly distracted by the sound of a frog nearby, its faint outline illuminated in the darkness by the fires is far larger than it should be. "Oh! What is that?"
To think that her own child would be this boring! Her eyes trip over him, counting the familiar birdcatcher spots dotting across him like the constellations hidden away behind the immutable clouds. Now, what was his name supposed to be?
"Avocet!" She grins wide into his distress, ignoring the conflict and confusion that tumble together in the storm of his gaze, "I'm so glad you're here!"
Her small hooves carry her to the boy, and she, capricious, mercurial, greets him more warmly than she has ever greeted him or his feral sister. The fire has raised her spirits high as the thermals of Nerine, not to mention remembering the name she had given him in that far-away fever-dream. @[avocet]. She finds that the neglected twins claim a small thread in her mind, though there is no particular feeling of concern or joy or love there for either, but she does recall the familiarity of them, and the boy, in particular, tucked beneath her wings. Motherhood is a strange thing which she does not understand.
"I was certain the Creatures would have eaten you by now," Her embrace loosens, instantly distracted by the sound of a frog nearby, its faint outline illuminated in the darkness by the fires is far larger than it should be. "Oh! What is that?"
