This Woman's War [birth]

the Rift

[OPEN] This Woman's War [birth]

Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004

Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8

Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE

Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd

#11

11-04-2015, 08:00 PM

GAUCHO
I'd bring you further roses but it does you no good.

Gaucho knew that Meg was strong of both body and spirit - yet his gaze did not lift from her until he was confident that she had enough strength to hold her own. He could only imagine the toil that was giving birth, and while he did not want to pressure the mare into acting as if she was okay, when she was not, he needed to hear her say that she was.

Her admittance of such was enough for the warrior. He was not one to dote, not one to second guess. If his Sultana said that she was fine, then she was. Besides, she was in much more capable hands with Einarr.

Pulling back, he eyed the darken warden before drawing up short. He saw the telltale signs of a sickness that Gaucho had recently cured himself of. The dark ooze was enough of a giveaway, and the Wildfire knew from first hand experience just how contagious the sludge was. With his ears pinned back at the sight, Gaucho inhaled sharply, fanning his wings from his flanks. "Yer elat kazga athzhikhar! Gwe!" Although Gaucho was knowingly demanding of the Father to leave his mate and newly born twins, his authority as Sultan was not to be questioned. Though he was sure that Einarr would realize that his demands were only there to protect the new lives, taking their first breaths upon the sands.

"Vorsa kolat. Einarr zisat, but Einarr kolat. Yes?"

Gaucho waited for a sign of confirmation from the warden before proceeding. Unlike the flames that had covered Meg and her twins, these flames were hot. They radiated outwards, unyielding towards Einarr. His skin would tighten, and his fur might even fuse together, but he would be able to bear the pain.

And importantly, he would not pass the sickness onto the fertile young lives that were now his to guard.

Yer elat kazga athzhikhar! : you have the black sickness!
Gwe - Come!
Vorsa kolat. Einarr zisat, but Einarr kolat : Fire heal. Eianrr will hurt, but Einarr will be healed.