.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
09-09-2015, 04:10 AM
 erthë you're so cold but you feel alive
Like a whipped dog the child crept back to her mother. Father's stern gaze was like a firm hand on her shoulder, warm and concerned and strict. He had found her out there on the steppe, bruised and injured and endlessly tired, and now they had finally rejoined the rest of the small family. Erthë saw her mother's dark silhouette against the light of the rising moon and wanted nothing more than to run to her and disappear in the warmth of her embrace. But even from afar she could sense the cold, rigid anger of the mare, and so she approached carefully, humbly, with wings drooping from the shoulders and the tail a limp line dragging over the crust of snow. Ah, how her limbs trembled. Fatigue and lingering shock of being wrapped up in battle had weakened her far more than any of their arduous travels across the frozen wasteland. Her belly was a gaping vortex, a black hole starving for sustenance... Would mother allow her to suckle though? Was her silence a sign of rejection, a denial of any responsibility towards such a disobedient child? The filly stopped before her mother and slowly, fretfully gazed up at the stony expression. The beautiful amethyst eyes she loved so much gazed back without betraying anything of what was going on in her head, and as long moments of silence dragged on the foal began to tremble, tears rising hot and painful in her eyes. "Mommy... I-I'm s-sorry!" Stuttering she began to cry, helpless in the face of her most beloved ones' disapproval. |
~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~
