| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 4 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Frostie |
I'll carry you on my shoulders, never set you down.
Ferry you through the coldness, never let you down.
Direct follow on from this thread: here
Fear pounded through her veins, as sweat covered her tiny body. She had watched the way her mother had died, the one who stunk of death had done it, the green vile dribbled between his rotten teeth, his cold eyes had given little attention to her. With what little strength her brittle legs had, the filly had picked herself up and tumbled away from the twisted corpse that was all that remained of her mother. Another had approached the scene, but she had been to terrified, to wait and see if he meant to do her harm.
Her legs became tangled and the tiny filly tumbled to the ground where she began to quietly weep, petrified that if she cried too loudly death might come find her. Although most of this was not logical or calculated thoughts, it was instinctual. Her blue eyes gazed ahead not really seeing the surrounding field, her tiny body slowly began to shiver, the cold seeping into her bones. Another helpless bleat for her mother, perhaps for the hope that someone around would come to her rescue. Struggling to stand again the filly stumbled and fell again. This time she stopped moving, her breaths growing increasingly more shallow as the time slowly passed around her.
The sun began to sink down, gradually taking away any warmth the filly was feeling. Her eyes closed as exhaustion took over her body, she was fighting a loosing battle, it was surely was over for her now anyway. Without a mother she had little chance in this world alone.
Unless someone, somewhere was coming to her rescue.
"."
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Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
| Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid
Brit |
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As strong as the seas are stormy.</style>
Fate had played her hand like a violinist playing the strains of her favorite melody, with a surety and a buried reasoning that Hotaru could never understand. How it was that she'd ended up in the Meadow that evening was not something she could ask of the quiet skies above, for no answer would be forthcoming. Maybe it was her excitement to be free once more that led to her perusal of all the lands she'd never taken the time to enjoy, or maybe it was the same pull of responsibility and purpose that had brought her to the expanse of flowers and sweetgrass that had also ended with her presence at the Blue. Whatever had summoned her, it was clearly looking out for the little life curled in the grasses, calling out for a mother to raise a child who had never even known the smell of her mother's flesh before blood and death had ripped away that chance.
Strands of silver and gold draped over the flora around her, catching and tugging harmlessly as it sparkled beneath the dusk light. Each movement was slow as she found herself enjoying the scenery, the beauty of the Gods all coming together to paint an image that would not soon be forgotten. Hotaru's thoughts are elsewhere, thinking of Arya and Mirabella, of the hesitant ideas shared between the Throat and the Basin. Everything seemed to be lingering on the edge of something, be it the murders that she had been inexorably tied to or the held breath even she was experiencing while the memory of her daughter's near-death before her very eyes plagued her. There was no way Arya could have survived, Hotaru knew that, and she thanked the Gods every day she awoke for having given her a new span of hours to treasure the gift Arya was to her.
How it happens is rather anticlimactic. She nearly stumbles over the prone form curled underfoot, harshly thrusting her foreleg over the body to catch herself without crashing down upon the poor thing. Suddenly left winded with her surprise, the lady tilted her crown to look down upon the tiny thing she'd nearly kicked, her horn like a glimmering spear pointing rather like a compass arrow towards the child that meets her eyes. The breath leaves her, until she is left gasping for it, and with a kick of her legs she is over the prone form and collapsing to her knees beside it.
The mother in her is caught in tangles of fierce protectiveness and panic, seeing a child clearly fresh from the womb collapsed and shuddering, alone, in the grass. Logic kicks her brain into gear, and in a sweep of shimmering starlight she casts her plume upon the child's frame, moving as close as possible to share her body heat and curling her bodice around the little thing in her tender grasp. "Hush, little one. I am here. Everything is going to be okay." It curls from her lips in a coo of tender promise, breathing hot puffs upon the moist skin of the babe and cursing the fall of the sun she had previously been admiring.
Arya was fresh off the teat, and Mira had not required such sustenance for a while yet, but Hotaru knew her body could supplement the child should she require it. The thing is alone and helpless, and though it is perhaps unrealistic to take a third child beneath her wing when already two remained in need of her at home, Hotaru could not simply leave her to die. Briskly she rubs her muzzle across the child, hoping to use the friction to warm it and dry it further. In time she urges at it, hoping to make the little girl stand on her baby legs.
"You have to eat, I need to get you somewhere safe. Please stand for me, little darling. I'm right here beside you, I just need you to stand." She is tugging and propping the nameless child up as gently as she can, but it is vital that she moves the babe to real shelter in case the spring rains come overnight. Hotaru knows she will not be returning to the Basin that night, moving the exhausted baby is not going to be feasible. She just prays that it's not too late to save it.
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Image Credits
![[Image: 515265280ffff]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/515265280ffff)
::Strong like the sea is stormy::
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 4 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Frostie |
I'll carry you on my shoulders, never set you down.
Ferry you through the coldness, never let you down.
Noise, her tiny ears picks up the new sounds, it's different to the noises of the forest that she had been hearing. Was it him? With her tiny eyelids shit tight the only things her mind would play was the green vile that had been rotting away at his mouth. The smell was something branded into her mind. Yet these steps may be lighter? Different, but perhaps not safe. The sound grows louder, spearing through her delicate hearing as the noise literally signals the arrival of something on top of her. It's now now that her eyes lids flutter open and the filly studied the oner before her. Warm colours decorate her flesh, green eyes peers down at her form, the female's horn like a glimmering spear pointing directly at her...a horn, like her mothers. Perhaps this one can be trusted...the green one was different...deadly. A strange sound much like the one her mother made as the life left her eyes escapes the one before her. The sudden movement would have startled the frosted daughter, yet she is too shocked to react as the mare collapses to her knees beside her.
Suddenly the shared body heat seeps into her side and quickly her heart picks up in a faster more natural rhythm. She is cradled, the mare's body is curled around her own delicate frame, and ever so gently a voice singe out to her soul. It is not the voice of her mother, but it is enough to wake the little girl up from her daze. Bright blue eyes blink, and stare up at the mothering figure around her. And then her nose took in the scents that the mare carried with her, it was not the same...but it was similar...it was food, warmth...safty. Wide eyed, she stares at the one who had found her, blinking a few times to keep the mare in focus as the sun sank away into nothingness behind them. A gentle and weak bleat leave her mouth as the filly leans forward to mussel against the warmth and inhale the smell as quickly as she could. In her mind the smell promised a full belly and safety.
More warmth filled her as the mother moves at a brisk pace, and more warmth fills her. It seems that her tiny body is greedy, that the more touches the mother offers, the more the filly wants. the more she needs. Her heart rate peaks up, breaths coming in a more natural pattern and the shock slowly begins to leave her mind, allowing the small girl to think about what she needed. Yet it was not without guidance, she can tell that the mother is urging her to stand. So slowly with what little strength remains, the filly begins to raise herself up. It is not an immediate success. Twice she falls and looks up at the one who found her for support.
The gently coos in the hymn is all the encouragement she needs, yet more if given to her through gentle tugging and propping on the mare's part. The filly loves the gentle touches, soaking them in, wanting more, accepting every little prod she gets. Finally she finds her feet and stand proudly before the mare, her tiny eyes bright with pride in her achievements. Her stomach grumbles so the filly slowly edges towards her food, it is calling to her. With every breath the desire to feed builds, eventually after a slow progression, Ráeru suckles a teat. She is greedy and could probably be a little more gentle in her feeding but hunger takes over, she needs this milk to stay alive. Instinct has taken over.
"."
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Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
| Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid
Brit |
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As strong as the seas are stormy.</style>
The babe stares up at her with crystalline blues that take her breath away, as big and innocent as Arya had been that beautiful morning beside the lake when her life had changed for the better. Hotaru doesn't know how the child ended up there, curled up and fading away. Had her mother abandoned her? Had she been chased away? Had something happened to her mother, had they been separated? The answer is wholly irrelevant, for all of her attention is circulated around the half-frozen child in her grasp. She looks up at Hotaru like the thief is the center of her whole world for a moment, and Hotaru is suspended in those long seconds of breathlessness that she remembers vividly from her time with Arya. Newborns would never stop giving her a pulse in her veins and a jump in her heart, and even though the child was not hers, she swore to herself that by morning the babe would be gleaming with new life as she should be.
She is a greedy thing, as all newborn foals are, and Hotaru laughs softly into her little curved ears to see her preening for every touch and piece of warmth that Hotaru offers her. It endears her further to her heart, and Ru knows she is far too wrapped up already, prays that the little one will not be taken away from her though it is not her place to wish for it. She would just have to spend the rest of her time with the babe as wholly as possible, immerse herself in the very aura of the child, soak in the new memories while they reminded her so perfectly of her own birthing. She could almost see little Arya in the nameless child's face.
Encouragement is all the babe needs, though Hotaru believes that is all any child needs, and soon little gangly legs are fighting gravity for the right to stand and be free from the chains of stillness. Hotaru winces softly with each collapse that brings the babe back to the grasses, thankful for the fact they exist to cushion the bang of little joints on earth. It takes time, but Hotaru is patient and willing, and soon the little thing is standing, teetering and tottering to and fro in adorable helplessness. Hotaru nudges her closer to her flank, instinct and familiarity kicking in.
She latches on, overly eager to the point where Hotaru winces, but she is smiling all the while as she tucks the babe closer to her skin to keep her warm. She lifts her pretty crown, gazing out across the too-open space. Old instinct kicks in, reminding her that predators are more likely to attack while they are in the open and vulnerable. She is glad to have all the space around her visible, but she itches with worry nonetheless. In the Basin, she'd had no fear of such things when Arya was born. Tucking herself closer to the nameless babe, her eyes scrape over the horizon, as if daring something or someone to come and take the child away from her.
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Image Credits
::Strong like the sea is stormy::
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!
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