The Deep Forest. Last he had been here, he'd been a captive, led around by a blind tri-corn. Morir. Since the Bloodskald had bested the darker beast he hadn't seen hide nor hair of him anywhere, or heard any whispers of his name. Serves the fool right for thinking it wise to shackle me... the warrior thought, still irked by the mere memory of his captivity.
It had been rather short-lived, all things considered, but even a day as Morir's thrall had been twenty-four hours too many.
As the rabicano walked along, he found himself at a clear pool of water and bent to take a sip and wash his mouth and throat. A pleased chirp sounded from Irelyn's feathered and furry form as her keen eyes caught the red stones in the pool. Reaching out with a taloned front paw, she snatched one up and began to inspect it, utterly content with her lot in life at the moment.
His owl-griffin never ceased to amuse him, Torleik thought, and he shook his head gently at her antics. A moment of curiosity overtook him and the stallion gazed at the pool that lay before his eyes. He glanced down at his hooves, then at the water, and considered something he hadn't before. A pause, then realization that his idea was foolish.
Though he could freeze anything his hooves touched momentarily, that ability would not allow him to traverse any body of water. The frozen area would be too small to support his weight as he stepped. Shame. Walking on water would have been fun.
The silent reverie of the dark and shaded forest was shattered by a pained cry erupting into the stillness, startling Irelyn into flight and causing Toleik's head to snap up. His audits strained in the direction of the noise, and he leapt into galvanized trot. Whatever it was could be a trap and it was unwise to go galloping into a situational unknown. Silently bidding Irelyn to be his lookout above, Torleik followed the noises until he came upon a white form, writhing on the forest floor.
Brisa...
Last they'd met, she'd told him he was the father of the child she was carrying. Not in such direct terms, to be fair, but she'd implicated him as the culprit by reminding him of the coupling they'd shared all those moons ago. It had taught the stallion, ignorant of female gestation, that his actions could have far reaching consequences - much further than he expected. No one had told him it took nearly a year for a babe to mature enough to be born into the world.
"Brisa - are you hurt?" he asked, coming alongside her, voice strained with worry. What was going on? Why was she so sweaty? What...
Oh gods.
She was giving birth.
A panic gripped him as the dual-horned demon realized he hadn't the slightest clue how to aid this woman in her time of need. "I..." he faltered, looking from her pained face to her distended belly. Gently, he nosed her neck, hoping to provide some comfort. "You are strong," he encouraged, murmuring to her softly. "You can make it through."
From her perch in a nearby tree, Irelyn watched, confused and anxious, as her bonded attempted to help this white mare he'd met before. She could feel his stress, his worry, all borne of affection and his good-hearted nature. Why this particular white horse warranted these things the owl-griffin did not know, for she did not understand yet about emotional attachments such as these.
Torleik, in the meantime, was struggling with the increasing awareness that Brisa was in labor, and that he was going to be a father. He had accepted the fact at their last meeting but now, at this culmination of actions and events, it struck him that his impending fatherhood was real and tangible. That terrified him, but a tiny sliver of joy burned defiantly bright within the smothering shadow of fear.
He would have a family again.
@[Brisa]
"talk talk talk"
'Mental speaking'
Thoughts
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
![[Image: 531c0b471919e]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/531c0b471919e)
⇒
[O] Mind Over Matter [Birthing Thread]
