The tones of a soft bell rang, quivering, fading away as the newborn's voice was heard wading through the air for the first time. Aylin, her name was apparently, said by those who were starting to shuffle around her. She started to feel them on her skin, hear their gibberish projecting in her mind, but didn’t think much of it until one threw a shadow over her and moved in her way.
"You dare trespass here, in the forest of the Dauntless."
She heard the words and they awakened her. Maren looked up to find the tar-stained face that had brought out the low growls. The Dauntless. She realized who he was supposed to be. Czar. She hated herself for it, but not one inch could she control her own. She felt small and weak before his magnificent size and instinctively she did a step away from him and the mare. Still, although almost fainted into a whisper, her voice managed to remain calm, and she attempted to smile and bow her once spotless head to the apparent King. She cleared her throat. "This appears to indeed not be my desert home, then... Either way," and she had wanted to once again let her desiring glance find the newborn colt.
Instead; a strange, sudden coldness ran over her, overwhelmed her in its bath. First her skin, then slipped down into her very bones and made a nest in the depths of her skeleton. A taste of stress washed into her mouth to spread its taste of reluctance. Frustration grew in her muscles. Are you...
"You... dare..."
His voice echoed in her ears and she pushed them back as her wings hugged her neck in fright. She felt strangely fragile, powerless. All she had to protect herself with were mixed senses and no clear vision. She felt like taking in a deep breath of perhaps stress-relieving air, but everything within her worked against her as she did. But despite that all she felt the rage, she felt the fury, because how dare he.
Perhaps the foal was his and he was simply protecting it.
Perhaps the mare was his everything and he was her all.
But he had not introduced himself as a father. There was no emotional pride for a newborn son on his slick tongue. Did you not introduce yourself as a cold and control-hungry king-of-the-hill?
Her eyes did not lose his, would not let go even if she had wanted. So instead she answered his protective golden stare with one of her own. She digged her hooves into the soil beneath her and attempted to pull up her chin through all the frozenness of her body, eyes cold as the bones in her body. Don’t mistake me for a mere rabbit, as she had a home she was proud of being one with and she would not break down the honor of that family. "Diviner... Of the Dragon's Throat." She breathed through her stiff jaws and gritted teeth.
Some kind of healer-stallion came by, apparently helping him in his suffering. Her eyes narrowed to golden slits. What did he wanted from her more? Her eyes wandered as she almost began to find his distraction rude. Also hello to you,
Mikyael. How are you today, Mikyael? If this Czar was going to have her sentenced, then at least he should keep his attention focused. And she began to think: Had she not the right to speak up in this alliance; even though, forsaken as it felt?
“You dare to put me down with your magic as I, the only other mare here —” she took in another breath, cursing her body and cursing him. “— attempt to help your birthing mare?”
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[O] second chances, new beginnings [birth]
