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May with Fenrir & Aethe
Topic Started: Oct 28 2011, 09:17 PM (173 Views)
kimmys
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She tried not to think of her life if she could help it.

Rachmay knew that in many ways, she had simply failed. She wasn't a great herd mare, and had never risen to meet the expectations of her short time as a leader. Her children were all grown, but there too, she had not done as a mother should.

If Morte ever remembered Nikka's existence, he would be entitled to take her away from whatever kind of life she'd managed to make for herself. All because May had followed a heart that had since weathered into a dry husk where once a lush garden lived. Some days she felt as though her time with Miedo had been a glorious dream, and then a kick from her grossly swollen stomach would nag at her about the reality of her situation.

She was a vast mountain of pregnancy, so far overdue that she'd stopped counting and only prayed that mother nature would not kill her outright. Although that seemed to be the goal. Saddling an older mare with twins and then holding them in as though purposefully making sure that the children were too large for the old bay mare to pass safely.

The prospect of death, in and of itself, didn't scare her. What frightened her was the thought that she'd be leaving behind her newborn children, if they managed to survive the birth, that is. That Morte might find Nikka and she'd be unable to save her daughter. That Miedo would never know what happened to her, being outlawed from the sacred grounds of screaming mares and bloodstains. A pessimistic sigh huffed through the mountain of mare, unable to see any kind of future that didn't result in her at least injured if not dead.

And it wasn't as though she had friends. Or even acquaintences. No one to turn to for support, none to beseech for compassion in the face of her plight.

But when had she ever? After Anat had disappeared, leaving behind a young daughter that resented almost every creature that crossed her path, May had been forced to reconsider her future. And upon falling irreversibly in love with Miedo, had found herself quickly abandoned and helpless. Even when her brief hallucination had resulted in not only Astarte, but a full blown herd, she had not sought out the others in her new family. They, and their names, remained to this day a blur in her overwhelmed mind.

Sometimes it seemed that she was just on this planet to wait out her death.

The first twitch along the skin of her barrel earned a wary roll of her brown eye. It wouldn't be the first time a false contraction got her hopes up. After a long pause, a second contraction followed the first, and once the process had begun it picked up speed. None of her previous births had made her feel so rushed, so precariously aware of her own fragility and inabilities to predict or keep up with her body's sudden need to rid itself of these creatures.

The first foal was quick to slip from her body, and even before he was out of the sack, his spindly limbs were thrashing around, hitting her sore flanks as he tried to right himself without being able to differentiate sky from ground. Gingerly, she rolled onto her chest and looked back to see her son. Her first son. Miedo's heir. A sullen grin twitched along her lips as she stretched already sore muscles further to swipe her tonge across his forehead. Rebelling against the feeling, the colt attempted to jerk backward out of her reach but failed and eventually submitted to her cleaning.

However, the pause she had been counting on was nonexistent and before she could stretch her forelegs out to rise, a second foal was exiting her body, sliding along her brother with almost lifeless grace. Worriedly the bay mare once again shifted her weight to reach her newborns, focusing on the apparently lifeless filly. After a heartstopping moment, the spotted filly - bright against the elegant monochrome black of her brother - sneezed and opened her eyes with a start.

May loosed a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and proceeded to clean her children off, unsure if she was happy or sad or neutral. She loved them already of course, they were precious things worth her trouble, but would Miedo ever see his son? His daughter? Would she be around for them? How was she going to provide for these two?

When at last the foals were moving around with some semblance of coordination - the filly having taken the longest to figure out her spindly legs - Rachmay gathered them together with a gentle brush down either of their backs. They had had names even before she knew she was carrying twins.

Perhaps the only thing that Fenrir would be able to salvage from his sire was the name he'd chosen.

"Fenrir, Aethe, let's go figure out our future."
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