|
ƒierce
|
Nov 6 2011, 10:31 AM
Post #1
|
|
i've not yet begun to defile myself.
- Posts:
- 3,698
- Group:
- Kormadians
- Member
- #15
- Joined:
- Feb 9, 2010
|
The young dove gray mare walked about the Foaling Quarry silently, her steps thoughtful and unsure. This was her first time in the Quarry, other than her birth. Her mind went to her dam, then her auds pinned against her skull. An angry snort wavered the soft skin of her nostrils before she tossed her, veering her dove painted body in a different direction, as if her mother would be there if she continued. Her pale brown eyes glared upon the landscape as she moved into a slow trot; she would have to find a safe place soon. Another contraction squeezed her ribs, knocking the air from her lungs. She had conceived this foal with Omen; the mare slowed to a stop. He seemed like one of the Dark stallions her mother had told her about, but he had a presence to his name, and other horses knew of him. Maybe if she served him well, something good would happen for her. Selainer pushed the idea away and searched for a small copse she had seen earlier. When she found it, the painted Vanner Hybrid was dripping sweat; she had no time to do anything else besides lay down and begin to push. Many hours later, she and the foal were alright, despite her bouts of panic here and there during labor. Her head raised up awkwardly from her lying position, trying to see her foal. When she did see it, the painted mare sat up carefully, so as not to hurt her child. When the foal looked at her, her head cocked slightly to the right, pondering as to his pattern.
He was painted in a black tobiano pattern, and, despite the fact that they were lying down, his legs seemed thick and sturdy. The colt seemed to have a medicine hat on the left side of his face, but the pattern came down the right side of his face, making it look like his coloring went into half a blaze and half to a hat. His coloring on the right of his head curled under his nostrils and over to the middle of his lips. His optics were a dark color, his left eye circled just barely with black. The dove paint cleaned her son slowly, lovingly, even though such an emotion was rare. She seemed to have retained his mother's void of emotion personality. But she wanted more than she had, did that make her power-hungry? When they stood, the colt pushed her, forcing her to move so that he could nurse. Astounded by his forcefulness, Selainer nipped her son's hindquarters. He flicked his tail, still nursing, he had no reaction for her. The mare's auds pinned; he took after his sire alright. He would be named Augurian.
|