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| stay, don't go; Ixchel birth | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 18 2013, 09:21 AM (117 Views) | |
| madie | Apr 18 2013, 09:21 AM Post #1 |
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The shadows swallow her deep into the belly of the beast. She welcomes the teeth of the night against her neck; the slow throb of her heart beat. Sweat seeps through her black fur, not unlike nights before. She remembers the give and take, the scent, the strange whispers of her lover’s tongue. He is not unlike the night. Scion, a creature made up of stark white bone and sin. He lures her into the shadows like scent tantalizes lust. She slithers through the veins of the night like a venom into the heart of the Foaling Quarry. Her breath wears thin, her knees buckle and fold. Her dreams carry her away to the depths of the desert where she once lived. Her mane burrows into the sand like roots into the ground. For a while she lays there, the heat of some foreign sun drying the sweat on her neck. Her body withers, her skin becomes something like unto stone. She lay in ruins against strange desert sands, and soon the stone that is her body cracks and crumbles. Slowly her veins, so thick with blackness, turn to vine. They writhe, twisted and burdened with thorns. The stone that was her body turns to ash and dust. The vines curl, and when the wind has blown away the excess sand there lays a tiny foal. She slumbers quietly, born of desert sand and a mother’s blackened veins. Carbon watches for some time from some distant dimension where dreams and reality flow into one. So, when her body (no longer consumed by stone, earth, and vine) and spirit collide she is numb to the choking pain. She gives into the process of labor, and welcomes the pale filly when she arrives with a wet tongue. “Hello, Ixchel.” She whispers to newborn blue eyes. |
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3:36 AM Jul 11
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3:36 AM Jul 11