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08-15-2016, 09:27 AM
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This world she has fallen into is cold, and bright. The leaves overhead dance in a wind that strikes her wet skin like a chilled lash, her damp face looking about with a wild bleat of surprise that is wet, the moisture of the womb still in her lungs. Again, she calls out, a newly wet warmness having begun to lick all over her, and this time the cry is louder, not just a gurgle. It ends, however, in a sneeze, a mist of moisture exploding from the delicate, damp copper nostrils of the filly. The big, licking shadow takes the moisture away. Looking back at her with another peal of surprise and newness, the tiny unicorn marvels at the shining, pure white angel that cares for her. The sun glints on the ends of creamy tines, and her eyes, like the light caught on the ends of her horns, are warm, and welcome. A feeling she has no name for rises in her heart, flutters and flaps its golden wings. Love! It fills every pore of the newborn’s body, makes her tuck these awkward front things up from underneath her, uselessly sprawled until she’d remembered she had them. With a wobble, she sticks her bum up into the air, a weak attempt at walking, and she finds the strength necessary lacking. With a small whump, she falls back down, and leans back into the snowy mare that seems to have finished her cleaning. When the other one comes, all speed and chaos with a bird white as Love in his wake; for the first time, the little filly hears words, clear of the muffled drone of the womb. While she had been pondering a nap, her tiny eyes fluttering with the exhaustion of trying to know all this new stuff (green trees, swaying grass, smells, thousands, all sharp and clear and indistinguishable from the last until the next was assaulting her), her ears rise with intrigue, her pale, glittering green eyes popping fully open to look upon her father. She doesn’t understand him to be as much, mostly as she hears this Arah said again, more gently than the shout of before, and its distracting. But good. She had felt worry that all talking was loud like the first time he’d said it, and she was also quite puzzled as to its meaning. Was it what the pure Love was called? Arah? The russet healer is looking at the cream and copper filly now, she notices. He says things that make her feel warm inside, though she does not know why. Maybe it’s the tilt of his lips, or the bright shine of his green eyes, but the filly curiously watching from alongside her mother is sure he is good and pure like Love, even if he is red, and marked with lines that make her think of the towering, regal trees. The vastness of the forest is frightening, something she hasn’t been bold enough to really look at yet, but this guy? He’s not fearsome, despite being big, too. He folds down against the ground behind pure Love, Arah. That inside warmth grows again, her small head falling back against the smooth, perfect shoulder behind her without a thought. Her mother smells like mist, like the forest, like the dark earth against which she’d labored for the gift that dozes to sleep in the afternoon light, and the sound of her family’s voices is a gentle song. Maude, she hears, the world blurred with gauze clouds, the dark glitter descent of sleep almost stealing her away, but not quite. Is that me? [ OOC: newborns are awkward. xD BUT MAUDE YAYAYAYAY] |
@Arah @Tilney
