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| Inter Spem et Metum; Between Hope and Fear | |||||
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 7 2012, 06:09 AM (301 Views) | |||||
| mysterious_blue | Oct 7 2012, 06:09 AM Post #1 | ||||
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![]() The very first stages of labour had started even before they had reached the shores of the Quarry, making the journey all the more uncomfortable and much more urgent. The process of foaling terrified the pony mare; not just the pain, but so many things had gone wrong before that Phillipa almost dreaded seeing the outcome. She hadn’t mentioned it to either Kalevi or Marlowe, but the foal hadn’t been making any noticeable movements over the last few days. This, coupled with her history of miscarriages, still-borns and unhealthy offspring, was a devastating development. Nonus was rising as the pair of equines lingered at the boarders of the woodlands; Phillipa stood with her head lowered, her breath coming in short spurts as she tried to recover from an earlier contraction. Most of her dappled pelt was already laced with sweat with steam rising from her petite form into the cold night air. The ground beneath her hooves was practically frozen solid, though the boughs of the timbers had kept it blessedly free of snow. Foaling in the middle of winter was risky… even with its dam’s hardy breeding, the foal would have to be delivered quickly and be standing as soon as possible just to prevent it dying from the cold. The whites of her eyes flashed in the blue moonlight as she threw a glance at Kalevi. She’d never considered asking him to accompany her to the Quarry before and she still wasn’t entirely sure how comfortable she’d be with him standing over her while she tried to deliver their offspring. Marlowe’s stubbornness had been the catalyst; the speckled colt had refused to remain in the Valley while his dam travelled alone, which had driven Phillipa to accept her claimer’s offer to accompany her here … though even she would eventually admit that she felt safer with the stallion at her side. The mare hesitated briefly, before taking a few shaky steps towards the spotted stallion. Her muzzle extended a short way, seeking some form of comfort or reassurance from the handsome male. It might have been out of character for the Shetland, but the discomfort and worry were almost too much for the pony to cope with alone. Kalevi hadn’t been around for much of the gestation, leaving the mare to look after Marlowe unaided while still carrying their child. She didn’t resent the stallion for his time away, she wouldn’t dream of it, but that didn’t prevent her from wishing that he had been there. It had been a huge relief to have him home again, especially since he managed to get back before the child arrived. It wasn’t long before another contraction gripped her form. Delicate lobes were lost in the mare’s silver mane, her teeth gritting together as she struggled to cope with the pain. She resisted the urge to pace, instead remaining close to the stallion, even as the spasms began to pass. The mare knew that she wouldn’t have very long before she had to settle and try and deliver this foal; her thoughts now plagued with terror at the prospect of doing so. She so badly wanted to be a mother, and produce a healthy foal … she just didn’t know if she could survive the heartbreak of potentially losing another child. |
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| devotchka | Oct 7 2012, 10:41 AM Post #2 | ||||
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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| mysterious_blue | Oct 7 2012, 04:08 PM Post #3 | ||||
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![]() The mare was almost disappointed when her claimer offered her only the briefest of touches, but having been so nervous about physical contact previously, his caution shouldn’t have been unexpected. Puffs of vapour issued from the pony’s nostrils as the contraction subsided, her attention being diverted to the stallion who stood at her side. Despite being somewhat preoccupied with the discomfort of labour, the mare could still sense the fear from her claimer. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to let him come along. What the Shetland needed more than anything else was reassurance– to be told that that the foal was going to be fit and well…whereas the spotted stallion seemed to be just as distressed as Phillipa. A small nod of her head was the only answer she could give, but in truth she had little idea about exactly how long the foaling would take. She hoped it would go quickly, most mares did, though she was aware that she could be stuck like this for a few more hours yet. The urge to pace was getting almost too great to resist, but the mare continued to fight it for the time being. Her gaze flicked to the stallion again, trying to read his features in that brief glance. She’d already heard the notes of anxiety in his voice and his expression only seemed to quantify that. Phillipa found herself torn now; she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of any equine standing over her while she struggled to give birth, but she felt safer knowing that Kalevi was there. The Shetland fidgeted briefly, though it wasn’t clear –even to her- if that was simply from the discomfort or awkwardness of the subject. “You don’t have to stay.” Phillipa couldn’t bring herself to meet the stallion’s gaze, though her words would have been just loud enough for him to hear. Hardy hooves carried the mare cautiously forwards as she started to pace the clearing, desperately hoping to somehow sooth the discomfort. She could feel the gradual change in the foal’s position, though had yet to feel it kick or fidget of its own accord, which only amplified her fears. Another contraction swept over the mare, the agony forcing her to reluctantly lower her form to the frozen ground. The cold took her breath away, despite her thick winter pelt, but she couldn’t afford to concentrate on anything but the foaling now. Even the dilemma with Kalevi had been forced to the back of her mind; she wasn’t sure what he’d chosen to do or if he was even still in the clearing. Her head turned towards her grossly distended barrel for a brief moment before rolling back onto her side, in anticipation of the next contraction. |
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| devotchka | Nov 7 2012, 08:34 AM Post #4 | ||||
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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| mysterious_blue | Nov 17 2012, 11:38 AM Post #5 | ||||
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![]() The whites of her eyes glinted in the blue-ish light from the moon far above. Her dainty lobes twitching as her claimer drew closer. She wasn’t able to acknowledge it at the time, or to the stallion who stood close by, but the Shetland was grateful that he remained. It had taken years before she could say with any honesty that she trusted the speckled male; she felt safer when he was around, a little warmer despite the biting cold. But with another contraction washing over her, she couldn’t so much as consider voicing her thoughts. Lobes pinned to her poll again, hidden away in the depths of her thick silvery mane. Lids closed over the mare’s eyes as she started to add her own efforts to her body’s natural desire to remove the foal from her womb. Phillipa’s hooves raked though the thin layer of snow as she pawed for some form of purchase, though soon fell still again when she found none. The icy ground beneath her added another dimension to the pain she felt, stinging at her pelt while the labour contorted her from within. Had the gestation ended sooner, she could have foaled in autumn; it would have been easier, more comfortable and certainly warmer, but no mare could dictate just how long they’d have to carry their offspring for. To the Shetland, it felt as though hours has passed before she felt any real progress. Several times she’d hauled herself back onto her hooves, only managing to pace a short way before the pain brought her back to the ground. Nothing she did could sooth her discomfort, and she eventually resigned herself to the planet-surface permanently. Even then, progress was slow and the Shetland was deprived on any respite making her ever weaker as the minutes ticked by. When it came to passing the foal’s shoulders, Phillipa couldn’t help but voice her agony as she desperately continued her efforts to deliver the child. The dappled pony clamped her jaws shut, cutting the sound off as she blew heavily through her nostrils in an attempt to counter the pain. Never before had it hurt so much and, had she been in any state to consider it, the mare might even have regretted consenting to bear another of Kalevi’s children. Yet she still feared for her unborn foal, and for her own life, though there was nothing she could do to reverse it now. Eventually she felt it move, just a little, and the mare instantly committed to pushing with every last scrap of energy she had left, desperate to bring an end to the unbearable ordeal. Finally, it slid free of her form. The Shetland relished in relief for several moments following; her eyes closing as her head flopped back to the frozen earth in exhaustion and completely oblivious to the world around her. It was impossible for the pony mare to tell just how long she remained in this state but eventually, she was groggily drawn back into consciousness. The pain remained, dulled and no longer coming in spasms, but still there. Phillipa did her best to ignore it, shakily raising her head to try and catch a glimpse of the child she’d endured all this for. Nonus was close to setting, its light dimmed somewhat as Kormada entered the brief period which lingered between night and day, leaving scarcely enough light for the exhausted mare to pick out the form of her child. The floor of the clearing was still covered in a thin layer of snow, making her child’s pale form all the more difficult to detect -though the patch of dark liquid sitting behind the mare was all too easy to see. Despite this, Phillipa carefully tried rolling onto her stomach, wincing at the pain from applying pressure to her damaged innards. Short limbs were drawn closer to her form as her soft muzzle was stretched out; as if desperate to touch the fidgeting foal and confirm that it was, indeed, alive. |
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| devotchka | Dec 9 2012, 09:29 AM Post #6 | ||||
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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| mysterious_blue | Dec 10 2012, 05:36 AM Post #7 | ||||
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![]() The pony strained forwards again, desperate to confirm that the foal was alive. She could just about make out its form from the dim light thrown by the moon, but her vision was blurred. The metallic scent of her own blood was almost impossible to ignore, but she did all she could to keep her focus on the foal. Phillipa’s held breath was suddenly released in a sigh of relief as her muzzle brushed against her newest offspring. Her fatigue caused her to immediately withdraw, her head dropping to rest on the frozen ground while she took another moment to try and recover. Maternal instinct had to battle against the mare’s exhaustion, though prevailed eventually. The Shetland raised her head again, eyes still a little unfocused as she flicked her gaze back to the newborn, her breaths shallow yet still producing puffs of vapour in the cold winter air. Groggily, her attention turned briefly to Kalevi who had taken a step forward. She offered the stallion a small nicker in greeting and gratitude, but she knew now that she didn’t have time to waste. Instinct was pushing her to rise to her hooves and to get the foal standing. She knew all too well that no newly-born could survive for long in the cold. Feeling like an infant herself, the mare started her struggle to stand. The loss of blood made her light-headed, her limbs shook as she tried to place any weight on them and it took several attempts -plus some support from Kalevi- before she eventually made it onto her hardy hooves. Tender muscles practically screamed at the mare in protest against even the slightest movement; even the action of flicking her crimson-stained tail across her hind-quarters made her flinch involuntarily. Once her legs had stabilised a little, the pony mare took a few careful steps towards the pale child, instantly lowering her muzzle to it. Ignoring the overwhelming need to lay down again and rest, the silver-dapple quickly settles into the routine of cleaning her new offspring. She wasn’t quite as careful or meticulous as she had been with either Lia or Marlowe, but she knew that she’d lose the foal to the bitter cold if it didn’t get to its hooves quickly. In her haste, the mare neglected to check the foal’s gender, though with her insistent nudging and support, the colt was soon standing and being encouraged to take the all-important first feed. The mare’s dizziness got the better of her again, forcing Phillipa to widen her stance slightly and lower her head in an attempt to prevent her form from crashing back to the ground or crushing the offspring she’d endured so much for. |
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| devotchka | Dec 21 2012, 09:30 AM Post #8 | ||||
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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