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a change of H E A R T ;;; Treagan&Briar
Topic Started: Nov 9 2011, 05:59 PM (91 Views)
ƒierce
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
But what if she didn't want to raise this foal? Or return to Alaric in Otter's Haven to show him their newest child for that matter? What if the Gypsy Vanner mare wanted to return to her Roque ways, wandering the paths and forests of the world? What if her dark eyes wanted to look upon the Cove of the Dreamscape once again, or tread into the mountains of the Loftlands? The dark tail of the maiden flicked irritably against her black-splashed hide. Her head lowered slowly in her constant motion, moving forward, to lip at passing grasses and bite off what she could grasp. The white feathering upon her legs and hooves and the cascading of her mane was picturesque. She was truly a sigh to behold, at least that's what the mare had thought before. The swelling of her barrel during this pregnancy was the same, if not slightly larger. The Vanner silently prayed that it wasn't a colt this time, even if she had had a filly the time before. She didn't want to deal with any more Shieryon's or Fytove's of the world. Her first son, Shieryon, had been independent, but sought her approval much too often. Fytove was desperately needy, but what had happened to the colt? The muscling in her black shoulders heaved upward slightly in the horse manner of a shrug. She knew little of what was going on in the lives of her children. Shieryon, to her knowledge, had a herd now with many children in the Offlands; the mare pursed her lips into a sort of smirk. He had claimed the prestigious land of the Weeping Towers. That was something he ought to be proud of. Fytove was disappeared from the face of the planet, perhaps something had claimed the life of her second foal. Black ears flicked backward slightly against her poll. A small smile pulled at her lips when she thought of Selainer; the mare had a child of Omen, a rather well-known Dark in Treagan's book. She was certainly an accomplishment, perhaps the Vanner would visit her some day. But then there was Rapture, her second daughter. She was beautiful,; there was no doubting that. But did she have the skills to look for a higher purpose? At the tender yearling age, it was hard for the Vanner to interpret anything of her buckskin daughter's future, even though she might become her father's "little princess." The Vanner scoffed at the ridiculous idea. Alaric might as well not accomplish anything in his whole life if he were to baby that foal.

A contraction squeezed at the mare's ribs, her only reaction was a flick of the ears, despite her pelt's sweating. She would have to find a resting place soon. She knew that her time would be present within the hour; the contractions had been coming closer and closer together within the past few hours. The black-splashed mare veered towards a copse near the shore, she was sure that she had used this place before; if not, oh well. Her dark optics looked upon rather appraisingly. It was a quaint place. The mare soon slowly laid down on her side, not needing to pace about the place like a first-time mother. This was her fifth foal, so she might as well get down to business. Some laborious hours later, her child was born. So as to not damage her child, the mare sat up rather slowly, looking to see where her child was. And what she saw almost amazed her. While she was painted with black and Alaric with buckskin, their child was a pure white. The filly struglled slightly to rid herself of the sac she had been carried in during the pregnancy, and the Vanner mare smirked a little, setting to cleaning the foal. When she finished, she took to looking upon her newborn daughter again, amazed at her color. She was beautiful little thing with her dark eyes and soft white pelt. The mare nodded to herself, the filly wasn't albino; she could tell by the girl's dark eyes. With a tender care never before possessed by the mare, she gently taught her daughter how to stand, nudging her when need be. Showed her where to nurse and even got her to take her first few steps before bedding down for the night. While looking upon the white filly with her brown eyes, Treagan held no emotion on her blazed face. Would raising this foal change the way she was? How could it? But she was amazed at the sight of the filly, every movement took her breath away. When the filly almost fell the first time she tried to stand, Treagan's heart had about stopped. Why was this? The mare shook her head solemnly to herself while the child slept. What was going to happen with them? The mare kept her watchful stance through the night, guarding her babe while the white child slept, huddled close to her side. Her name would be Briar.
ƒierce   (adj.)   ferocious; bold; intense; dauntless
if i am chaos, then you are the storm inside of me
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