I knew I shouldn’t have ventured out so far from the Basin. Granted, it was a short burst to get my legs stretched from being cooped up in the Basin for so long. When I woke today, the child within me was restless – in turn making me stay up half of the night pacing. By the time I returned to the Basin after my little stunt, I remained on the borders. I watched as the sky grew cloudy, knowing it was mid-morning by this time. I was already exhausted beyond comprehension and the child was still restless. I had grown annoyed by it, unsure of why it decided to be so active. It was a foreign feeling for me to know what exactly was going to happen next. I remembered my last pregnancy fondly, the child was a stillborn – no movement before the birth whatsoever. So I calmed my nerves with thinking that this was perhaps the best thing that could be happening. At least the child was showing me that it was feisty and strong. Perhaps a bit too strong for my liking.

I felt the onset of contractions which sent my anxiety into overdrive. I worried about getting back to my cave, about getting Ashamin, about getting a healer. All of that grew into hindsight as I became frozen with both a reoccurring pain and fear. I didn’t even make it within the Basin’s borders even knowing how dangerous it could be out here. So I trudged on, pushing myself further to where I was at least on the very edge of it, enough to see the towering Sentinels below. I had found my way to the Frozen Arch. I teetered on the borders, heavy with a pulsating stomach. Minutes went by of silence, then a few hours. By now it was nearing the evening, the sun still hung in the sky but darkness began to sweep over the land. I was covered in sweat as well as a blanket of panic. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” I gritted my teeth, jaw clamping shut. I knew I needed to lay down, but I wanted to at least get within the borders. It seemed the child was relentless though, sending me tumbling to the ground in a flurry of frustration and lost hope. In those few moments, I lifted my head to be perpendicular with the sky, using my pain and heat to use my magic – shooting off a firework into the darkening sky. With a loud boom, sparks of red and gold flew about ten feet into the sky before cascading down in a beautiful show of light. Maybe someone would see it?

Flashbacks flew as contractions ripped through my golden barrel. Watching myself birth the first child I had. Remembering the feeling of being alone, hidden from the world. I watched as I hopelessly nudged the lifeless golden red body, lifting a wing and pressing my muzzle to its tiny chest to find that there was nothing there. He was beautiful, one that I wished I could have at least gotten the chance to raise; but it was all in the past. I began to grow furious in my agony. Angry at Calstron to the point where I had begun to cry without realizing it. The tears followed my exotic black markings as I lay in the chilled snow, the heat of my body creating small puddles out of the ivory blanket. The only thing I hoped to result from this was a healthy child. Ashamin had never done anything like Calstron had, but I was careful around others. Unsure of their reactions and untrusting. The only one I felt even slightly comfortable around was the Haruspex.

The more I thought about him, the more I worried. I shut my eyes tight as the contractions grew stronger, wishing that I hadn’t ventured out and that perhaps I could have had the child near him. I hoped he could come, I needed a breath of sanity to clear my mind of the horrible thoughts I was beginning to have. I began to have terrorizing ideas that perhaps when this child was born despite the violent movements it had been doing before, that it would become that lifeless slump in the snow. I heaved and pulled in the frozen air deep into my lungs, nearly hyperventilating, thinking that I might need to bury another child.

That was when I screamed for him. I screamed for Ashamin, for anyone. Hoping that I hadn’t attracted a predator to come upon us. I was close enough to the Basin’s borders, right? Maybe someone would hear me? I couldn’t help but to grow quiet again, humming to myself and the child between hiccups that everything was going to be okay. That we were going to be okay. I opened my eyes to see that the sun had moved a bit further, barely hovering above the points of the mountains. I knew that the child needed to be born before the sun went down and we were succumbed to darkness all alone.

So I heaved and pushed for a few moments, then again even harder in an endless rotation until finally I felt the child escape me. I sat up like a rocket, pulling my head to the child as I quickly adjusted myself to face him. We both stayed within the snow as I pressed my muzzle to every inch of him. Wingless, but a beautiful gold and white appaloosa coloring. Red sparks marking his neck and the backs of his legs that faded into darkness like mine. I noticed a black bump in the middle of his forehead, and I began to nudge his tiny frame. My breathing heavy as it cascaded over my child. I began to clean him then, frantically trying to make sure that he was breathing. When he had begun to breath, I sighed with relief, but he still wouldn’t stand. I nudged him further, pressing my cream muzzle under his chest trying to lift him ever so slightly. “Come on, baby, you can do it.” I encouraged the young colt. Nudging him more and more, moments passed where he would swivel his head slightly but barely move his legs. “Please!” I began to beg as I grew desperate. Light was fading and he wasn’t standing. Was there something wrong?

I heaved and pulled myself onto shaky legs as I panicked, moving over to the other side of the child and pressing him further with my gentle touch. “Finally!” I whispered, relief washing over me as the golden boy stretched his faded legs out in front of him and heaved himself up slowly and wobbly with a few failed attempts. My heart was beating frantically as the world faded from me. I began to clean him up further, watching him with pride and a sudden burst of happiness to know that he was even alive to begin with.

"Talk?"

rexanna & rein

no one is ever gonna love you more than I do.