the Rift


[OPEN] welcome to the new age (birth)

Nyx Posts: 292
Deceased atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 11 HP: 72 | Buff: SWIFT
Dominus :: White Lion :: None Snow
#1

The pains start in the late afternoon. She recognises them immediately, as one would recognise a hated old nemesis, an old foe they thought they'd long since conquered. Like swords, the spasms barb through her abdomen, causing her to whinny angrily and snap hard at her sides. It's time...Anticipation gnaws at her, and her heartrate increases tenfold.

She has had a number of pregnancies, and is quite the experienced broodmare. However, she is quite sure she has never been this large before. Her sides are massive, each one swollen and unsightly against her tight silver fur. This child is going to be a mammoth, and she damn near drools at the prospect of such size, such strength! It does mean that pushing the bastard out is going to hurt like a bitch, but as Nyx knows from her history as a warrior, there is no gain without pain. She drags down a few more blessed mouthfuls of grass as the first bout of contractions ebb, knowing she won't be eating for a good few hours now.

The silver soldier has already picked out her birthing place; a massive tree near the edge of the herd's borders, with soft foliage beneath it for comfort and with the colossal trunk placed behind her, to guard her rear from predators. The large branches hang thick and low like a protective roof to keep off the worst of the elements from both her and her newborn, and it's near enough to the herd's border for the child's father to be able to visit if he so pleases. She moves towards this tree and begins to circle, getting herself settled ready for the long hours ahead. Labour is a lengthy process, and she is no maiden mare unsure what to expect - she knows every step of this prolonged dance, and settles herself down for the long haul. She knows that attempts to get comfortable will be futile, but that doesn't stop her trying to fight the inevitable. Stand up, lay down, roll, stand up, circle, stretch...Hours pass in a haze of sweat and pain, and before she knows it, the sun is dying to be replaced by the hungry moon. The rays reflect off her damp grey coat, giving her an ethereal, otherworldly glow.

Night finds the grey mare splayed out, massive sides heaving and neck beaded with moisture. Foam dribbles from her lips, and her eyes are narrowed to agonised slits. Her breathing is haggard and her ears are slicked flat against her head, whilst her mane flops in sweaty tangles around her skull. She's exhausted, bored and uncomfortable, and knows the worst is yet to come. Contractions are child's play compared to the indescribable sensation of having her unmentionables stretched like a damned elastic band. One final spasm tells her that it's time, and millions of years of natural instinct take over. With a great snort of effort, Nyx feels a warm, wet body push its way out from beneath her tail - new life, growing like a promise from her thighs.

In one fluid movement she rises to her hooves, allowing gravity to do the rest. Her child slips from her, landing in a damp bundle by her feet. Immediately, maternal instincts grip her like a vice and she turns to snuffle around her newborn, cleaning the mucus to free the airways and licking life into those moist, quivering muscles. It is a filly, a daughter, a stunning girl of her father's blood-bay fur and white splotches. Her tiny, velvet-covered nub of a horn is the colour of Nyx's own, and her dewy eyes are the ironheart's electric blue. She is a little beauty, and the silver huffs gently into her nostrils to initiate the bonding process. The smell of her newborn swells her heart with love and the urge to protect and nurture, and she begins to gently nudge the filly to encourage her to stand, with delicacy that the warrior rarely displays.

But something doesn't feel quite right. She still hurts everywhere, and her filly doesn't seem large enough to explain her massively swollen pregnant stomach. Her brow furrows, concerned, alarmed...oh, surely not.

Oh, shit.

Another contraction rips through her, and she lifts her lips in a savage hiss. "Arse-biscuits," she curses, pinning her ears. Twins. Twins! "I only signed up for one." Not two. One! Of course, two is better than one, but that's easy to say when you don't have to force the other little shit out of somewhere that feels like it's just been sandblasted. She has no choice, though. Instinct takes over again, and with an agonised whinny she allows her body to give over to nature.

By the time the second foal leaves her, she is physically and mentally shattered. He slips from her in a splurge of blood and more pain than she's ever experienced, but she scarcely has the energy to look at him. Her knees fold and she tumbles to the ground, just about summoning the strength to clean her son. He, like his sister, is a gorgeous child with dapple grey fur and a lion's tail, his horn-nub a bright hue of crimson. She clears his airways and presses her nostrils to his own, as she had with her filly, solidifying her bond with him. She can only give him a half-hearted nudge to encourage him to stand, however. She can't stand herself - it would be hypocritical of her to expect him to.

But she has to stand. It's how nature goes. She stands, so do they, and they suckle from her to get that valuable first milk - but does she have to stand right now? She has aaaaaages to get to her feet. It doesn't have to happen right this second. Yes, this is true. She'll just rest her chin on the ground for a minute, maybe even shut her eyes. Where's the harm? No, god dammit, you need to protect your children, get up, you weak piece of piss! She can feel her mind shrieking at her body, lamenting her weakness, loathing the helplessness and bone-fatigue that the double birth has plagued her with.

The ironheart has just enough about her to nudge her twins into a bundle and arrange her exhausted body in front of them, keeping them safe between her and the tree so any predator or ill-meaning horse will have to break through her to reach them. She'll stand and feed them in a minute. Just a minute. She'll just shut her eyes for a second first...

Unconsciousness beckons her like a beacon and yet, like the warrior she is, she fights it. She hovers between awake and asleep, clutching onto the tiniest thread of consciousness, aware of the world around but too tired to even notice the pool of blood spreading unpleasantly and ominously from beneath her tail.

__________

Yay d'Arcy and Libertad are things! @Déodat and anybody else welcome, some healing might be good as she's currently fighting off unconsciousness and bleeding badly!


Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.


Evangeline the Pure Posts: 199
Outcast
Mare :: Equine :: 15.2 :: 10
Tallis :: Common Orange Dragon :: Fire Breath & Toxic Breath ali
#2
Evangeline
you always want what you're running from

There was no mistaking the sounds that came along with labor that echoed through the forest in the dead of night. It drew Evangeline in, beckoned to her, called her like a siren and she was helpless to resist it. Her duty to her herd was to keep them all healthy and it was one that she took seriously, even in the middle of the night when she'd rather be fast asleep dreaming of nothing. 'She's up ahead.' Tallis said as he flew back to the orange mare. 'Not far.'

By the time Evangeline arrived there were already two foals on the ground and the mare was with them, seemingly drifting somewhere between conscious and unconscious. The Moon Doctors spared only a glance at the two foals to make sure they were breathing, but then her concentration went to their mother. Her emerald eyes drifted to the spreading pool of blood from beneath her tail and she knew that it was a good thing she'd followed the sounds through the forest.

"Stay awake." She said sternly and she lowered her head to nudge the other mare's cheek. "I'm going to heal you, after that you need to stand and feed your children." Whether or not the mare had birthed other children before and knew what she had to do didn't matter to Evangeline. She knew how very real exhaustion was after birthing twins, having done so herself several times. She knew how strong and irresistible the pull of sleep could be and how very deadly it could be for foals.

Evangeline concentrated and a dark wind began to swirl around Nyx as she sought out all of the wounds that Nyx had incurred during her labor. Tears began to stitch back together and her bleeding gradually began to slow. Sweat broke out across Eva's neck and shoulders as she continued to focus the healing magic that she'd been granted. While she continued to work on Nyx, Tallis landed on the ground in front of her and began to tap his clawed finger against her nose in his attempt to keep her from falling asleep.

"."

ooc://
let me know if you want me to edit Tallis and i will c:


and you know this is more than you can take
full image/stock credits

@Nyx

d'Arcy Posts: 21
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 2 years :: Tallsun HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Laine
#3
Life comes in a burst of light and the soft thud of ground against flesh, and the girl's first gulp of air is a deep, luxurious one. Something warm and wet dances across her moist skin and clears the remaining mucus from her airways, and her second breath is a more familiar and less frenzied rise and fall of her young chest. A hot muzzle touches hers and the red filly gives a somewhat startled squeak, before ramming her tiny nose up against the familiar-but-not aroma of her mother.

Hunger chews at her stomach and she emits another breathy squeal, demanding milk. Her legs, trapped beneath her body, suddenly begin to thrash as she struggles to her feet for the first time. Each spindly limb is splayed and wobbling, until with an indignant yowl they fold and send the girl capsizing back to earth. Her tiny ears pin and she huffs in frustration, swinging her tuft of a tail behind her.

Before she can try again, there's another form bundled beside her, one she recognises as much as she would recognise her own flesh. He has spent the last months nestled close beside her, growing with her, feeding with her - now he is next to her again, and she sniffs him a few times before resuming her attempts to stand. By the time she is back on her feet, balanced dangerously on stilt-like legs, her grey-pelted mother is no longer standing. A fledgling frown ghosts across her face. How dare Mother rest whilst she is standing? Crossly, she begins to poke at her dam's flank with her muzzle, trying to make the woman wake up and also urging the hind leg to move out of the way so she can suckle on the fresh milk that lurks beneath. She knows she needs that milk, knows it with an instinct and a desire that overrides everything else.

She is aware of another, speaking to the fallen form of Mother, but the red girl's focus is fully on her pursuit of the food that only her dam can offer.

when I tell you that i love you
don't test my love
accept my love, don't test my love
cause maybe i don't love you all that much

Libertad Posts: 24
Absent Abyss
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 2 ::Tallsun
Minx
#4
My demons are blocking out the light
     And my mind is about to lose the fight
He has known nothing but the womb and the warmth of his twin. The babe is content within his dark cradle. Then something shifts. He is not the first to depart from the warmth of his mother's womb, rather his sister is. The little colt remains oblivious and unaware of the world beyond. Not long after his own sister's birth, it is his time. Libertad can feel himself being shoved from everything he has known. The tiny colt blinks and takes in the sudden shift in the world. Slowly he turns his head and his eyes behold Nyx, and instinct tells him one simple thing, she is life. Roses begin to bloom across the ground he touchs, a vibrant hue of red. Instinct tells him to stand, but curiosity drives him to study the flowers across the ground. He lowers his nose and sniffs them, their scent faint and sweet. Only his mother's nudging distracts him from the strange things around him.

Libertad stares at her with wide eyes as the mare urges him to stand, so try and stand he does. The little fae's knobby legs don't hold him up for long and he quickly stumbles back down. Instinct still drives him to try again, despite his mother's collapse, despite her blood. The fae struggles up and staggers about and falls for a second time. His leonine tail flicks a bit in mild irritation. The fae remains oblivious to the potential death of his mother. Libertad is determined to rise and rise he will. Has his sister not already risen?. The colt struggles up his feet once again, hobbling about until finally he stands steadily. Nature drives him to seek for that precious first meal, but Mother is not there to feed him. . Hunger gnaws at his stomach. The colt flicks his small leonine tail and just waits eagerly for food, more flowers begin to blossom at his feet as he stands.

The fae ignores the presence of Evangeline, disinterested in her very presence. He remains fixated on his mother. Then the dragon taps his mother and his ears perk forward and there is a mild sense of distress. There is an undeniable fear in his features as his focus shifts from food to the bizarre.. thing touching his mother.

He doesn't notice the figure of a white canine a short distance away, a figure who will grow to be all too familiar. Odette creeps up and studies the scene. She sees Nyx and gives out a soft whine. As soon as the canine appears, she is gone. The fae stares after her, both ears pricked forward in curiosity at the strange sight. Libertad remains focused still upon one simple thing and that is food. Again he leans down and nudges his mother to rise a bit more desperately at this point.

"Talk?"
image credits

Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
#5
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls
the most massive characters are seared with scars
The mixture of scent of afterbirth and blood filters into the elephant’s thick, black nostrils. Blood? He knew that blood was a part of the birthing process… But so much of the coppery scent invaded his nose that concern stirred its owlish face in his mind and caused movement of his large hooves. He followed the scent at a swift walk— it took him closer and closer the the edge of the Edge. Why would a mare choose to birth so close to the wilds and so far from the safety of the herdlands’s heart?

Now both perplexed and uneasy, he moved up to a pounding trot. Long, thick columns of legs sweep away the distance between him and the unknown, bleeding mother. But he need not have worried, for his perked and straining ears catch the words, “I'm going to heal you, after that you need to stand and feed your children.” Ah, good, one of the doctors he has not yet met seems to have stumbled upon the scent of blood as well.

Though shock shatters the brief relief he felt as he finally set eyes upon the new-dam in question. It was Nyx. He had seen her rounded, pregnant sides at the last Rift God battle- but it was entirely a different matter to see the foals upon the ground beside her. He hadn’t been sure if he was the father— he had never found Nyx after the battle to discover the truth of the matter. He hadn’t thought the mare to be in heat when he mounted her… but he hadn’t been certain.

So he was surprised by the combination of elation and disappointment that flooded his barrel as his deep blue gaze studied the handsome colt and beautiful filly that lay slick with afterbirth. The filly was clearly not of his loins— for he had no way to provide that coloring. The colt could have been from Nyx’s coloring— but he could not have supplied that ruby nub of a horn. So these striking twins must have come from another stallion that bested the voltaic warrior.

Perked ears flick to the recumbent Nyx, “Congratulations, Nyx,” his low voice rumbled quietly, but still warmly despite the conflicting emotions that ravaged him, “Your approach to mating seems to have worked out once again— they’re fine foals.” Indeed, they were beautiful new lives awkwardly adjusting to life outside the womb. “Have you named them?” azure eyes turn to warm depths as he studies the twins. Though he was a stallion, an old warrior, he felt the tenderness melt the cold rock of hatred that the Moon’s magic seemed to protect and grow.

He lowered his great head, broad muzzle reaching towards the foals as he huffed a wordless welcome to the world. “You might want to stand and feed them, lazy woman,” a wry smile accompanied his badgering remarks as he grinned lopsidedly at Nyx.

Belatedly, he realized that his attention had been absorbed by the foals and his realization that he was not a father. His apologetic gaze swung to the Healer, “Apologies- I am Tembovu, Glazier of the Edge. You must be one of the Moon Doctors?” He rumbles to the striking chestnut mare with flaxen mane and tail.
image

Please tag Tembovu.

Nyx Posts: 292
Deceased atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 11 HP: 72 | Buff: SWIFT
Dominus :: White Lion :: None Snow
#6

There's a voice, like somebody talking in her dream. She isn't quite dreaming, but she's close - hovering in that narrow-lidded world between sleep and awareness. It takes a herculean effort for her to force her eyes open at the voice, encouraging as it is. Stay awake, it says. You need to stand up and feed your children. "Inaminute," gargles the silver, sighing contentedly. She is so damn comfortable, the grass is so warm and the blood oozing behind her is so not a concern, nor is the fact there is an orange lizard poking her on the nose...

Well, that's a bit of a concern. So is the fact there is something prodding her in the leg. Then, suddenly, the dull and throbbing tired-pain in her insides begins to ease. She feels wind tickle her flesh and thinks it could be magic - suddenly strength seems to flow through her, and her eyes snap open. Her head, which still feels leaden, lifts up slowly and painfully from the ground, and she looks around with an alert blue gaze. There is a pale mare who she recognises, from a meeting on the beach many years ago and several herd gatherings since, and judging by the sweat on her body, she has just healed the silver. "Oh, shit. I didn't realise...thank you." Her voice is earnest, because for all she knows the woman has just saved her life, as well as the lives of her foals.

Shit, her foals!

They're both standing and are both nudging her, persistent and obviously hungry. Then there is another figure, and the warrioress' heart turns over. Tembovu... He had protected her valiantly during the God fight, the fight she'd been forced to flee from for fear an errant blow would harm her children, and since then she has wondered if he protected her out of genuine care for her or because he thought her swollen sides may be his doing. She had considered that, of course, and realised how it must look to him. The only reason she knew that they belonged to the blood bay and not the elephant was that she hadn't been in heat when she and Tembovu danced. Now, seeing her children with red fur and crimson horns, her knowledge is affirmed.

But, she thinks, can he have been so sure? She loves her lifestyle, wouldn't give it up for the world, but she is so caught up in it that she often doesn't give a thought to those she may hurt in the process. She does not consider what she does to them with her lazy attitude to love, her wanton lusts and love of freedom. Now, as she lays with sweating flesh and exhausted body, she fears that Tembovu will be hurt by the knowledge the foals aren't his. She never said she would be mutual - hell, she made it clear she doesn't do mutual - but what if he'd thought it, even for one shining moment?

She can't speak to him properly now, with Evangeline nearby and foals to feed, but as she looks at him she tries to portray with a glance that she will talk to him soon, when she is recovered and her twins are safe. They are not a thing, but as a friend and herdmate she feels that she owes him an explanation, and an apology for not telling him sooner about their sire.

When he speaks, complimenting her strong children, she allows a short and genuine laugh to escape her foaming lips. "It seems I chose somebody a bit too virile this time - I have never had twins before." It is now that she realises she is still lying prone on the floor with her foals stood expectantly over her, and with a grunt and a herculean stab of effort, she rises to her feet. Tembovu's teasing drags a chuckle from her, and she fixes him with her electric gaze. "Slave driver," she retorts, mock-offended. Like her twins, she wobbles on limbs that seem too feeble to hold her weight, and she's so bone-tired she can hardly focus on anything except keeping her balance. The magic may have healed the wounds that could have killed her, but it can't possibly remove the fatigue of childbed.

She thinks of everything she knows of twins - how rare they are out in the wilderness, how their presence is usually a cause for panic because of how dangerous they are to birth. One of the mares in the soldier's old herd died birthing twins - with both of her foals perishing soon after - and Nyx used to dread the notion of ever falling pregnant with them as the survival rate was so low. In this land of magic, they are certainly more common, but she can fully understand why they are so lethal to bring into the world. Without Evangeline, perhaps Nyx would have died too, and without her precious milk, her strong babies could soon have followed.

It doesn't bear thinking about.

She shifts her hindleg aside, to expose her teats for the foals to suckle as they will. She encourages them both with a guiding, gentle muzzle to their quarters, hoping she will have enough milk to sustain both. They smell so warm and so hers, and despite her exhaustion she can't help the smile and contented whicker that tumbles from her lips.

An earlier question of Tembovu's comes back to her - names. She's been counting on Deodat turning up to name at least one of them, but there is yet no sign of him. The mantle will fall on her, then. She looks at the girl and racks her mind, trying to think of a theme, something that incorporates dam and sire alike. "d'Arcy," she names the girl, with a decisive touch of her muzzle to the velvet flanks. The boy remains nameless for now - she hangs on to some hope that his father will appear to put his mark on the newborn colt. She missed the presence of his dog, and her own companion is too far away to send in search of him. Dominus took himself off as soon as the mare's labour began, so he wouldn't be tempted to eat her newborns.

She looks again to Evangeline. "I thank you again, miss. Your magic probably saved my life." Jesus, the shame of dying in childbirth - the silver soldier thinks the only fitting death is one on the battlefield.



@Evangeline

Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.


Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#7
E r t h ë
"And now I wish to God that The earth would turn cold
And my heart would forget it's made of glass"


It hurt. Everything hurt. Her muscles, her head, even the tips of her horns and hair felt sore, fragile, as though a gentle breeze might make her shatter and fade into nothing. She knew she wouldn't, of course, and she knew that it wasn't really all of her that ached. It was only the left front leg, swollen and a bit crooked and impossible to stand on that leaved her in this sorry state. But oh, how it hurt! Every step was enough to make her want to cry, and it didn't particularly help that the remaining front leg was weak and unreliable either.

Battle scars. The term had such a romantic ring to it, but whoever thought it up couldn't have received any themselves. There was nothing romantic about having your leg pulverized, and there most certainly had been noting heroic about the slaughter of the Tigress. Erthë was firm in her belief that she was paying the price for her part in the carnage, and the only one she blamed for her current condition was herself.

That didn't mean she didn't want it fixed. Though moving was painful and she would have preferred to lie down somewhere quiet, the girl was not made for self-pity or nursing injured pride. Instead she set out in search for a healer, someone who could finally fix her. Badger and the nameless, rosy colored mare had patched her up as best they could in the heat of battle, but surely it had to be possible to do a better job now that there was peace and quiet and plenty of time.

It was the murmur of voices and the stray mention of "going to heal you" that drew her in beneath the low hanging branches of the tree. The filly stopped there, hovering awkwardly with the leafy vines flowing down her back and sides; this looked like a very private gathering. Tembovu was there, and a steely colored unicorn lady she had seen a few times on the battlefield, and on the ground behind her... lay two foals. Wet, covered in slime and blood and barely able to stand. Another mare was just stepping back from the horned warrior, chestnut hues surrounding a white flower mark... Ah, Erthë knew this person too.

But this was very private, wasn't it!? Though it was absolutely fascinating and the foals were really cute, the winter child didn't know if she was welcome or how she was to ask the healer for help when she so obviously was exhausted already.

"Uuh.. hi. Congratulations. Sorry for bothering you..." she murmured awkwardly, torn between a desire to inch closer and admire the newborn twins and an instinctive urge to give the family a wide berth.

Ah well. She'd already intruded - and her issue was making itself reminded with every heartbeat, the pain a pulsating, persistent throb that pushed her past courtesies and common decency.

"You really are a healer, yes?" she asked, turning to Evangeline with a shy but weary smile, expression tense with the strain of keeping it together. "Can I talk to you, when you have time?"

She could wait, but not forever. Erthë wasn't so selfish that she would drag help away from those who needed it, but not so kind as to completely disregard herself either. It was fine, she would live - probably - and remain sane (maybe) but... Yeah. As soon as possible, please?

But she didn't say it, just smiled shyly and felt very out of place.


"And all the pretty tulips would disappear
And never disturb me again"


~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Déodat Posts: 174
Absent Abyss atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hands :: 12 HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Odette :: White German Shepherd :: None Minx
#8
déodat,

Odette retreats to her bonded and announces the birth of his twins. Déodat bolts at the mention of the mare's collapse. He is a flurry of red as he closes the distance between himself and his friend. The Blood Prince had missed Arya's birth and had no intentions of missing yet another one of his children's births. They will not be brought into this world without a father, especially if their mother does fall vicitm to whatever exhaustion Odette described to him. Surely her herd has sent a healer to tend to her. Still, he flies with as much speed as his legs can muster. 


The blood prince arrives at the borders and grows antsy. Trespassers are next to the hornless and winged upon his list, but he can't shake the need to check upon his friend and children. Surely these leaders could understand that his children are inside their borders, that there is a need for him to be there. Déodat has missed too many of his children's births and he will not be absent for these two, especially when they already do not share his northern home. Both he and Odette figure that the sacred laws of borders can be forgotten. He can't imagine Nyx taking too kindly to him not attending the birth of his twins.. Dear gods, twins and he cannot disguise his excitement. 



Together they fly over the border, Déodat will ready himself ofr any hostile patrol later. He follows the scent and finds his way over to the group. "Nyx," he says, breaths coming in heavy and sweat covering his frame from the journey. The mare is alright.. So are his children.. Déodat takes in the details of both his son and daughter, ah finally a son. Of course he does not love his male offspring than the darling fillies that hold his heart, he is above such pettiness. He cannot deny the pride though, that there will be another male to carry on his line. 
Once he finally catches his breath he looks at his friend. "What are our their names?" He asks with a broad grin. "They are truly beautiful.." He coos to both of the babes. Then he remembers of his trespassing and he looks about the group. "I apologize for trespassing.. I needed to ensure the safety of my friend and children."

"Speech speech speech"


;letter-spacing:3px">image credits
[Image: QV8O7HU.gif]
Cut from the cloth, of a flag that
Bears the name of "Battle Born"
con by aihnna@dA




Evangeline the Pure Posts: 199
Outcast
Mare :: Equine :: 15.2 :: 10
Tallis :: Common Orange Dragon :: Fire Breath & Toxic Breath ali
#9
Evangeline
you always want what you're running from

"Inaminute."

"No." Was the healer's response, her voice stern and unyielding as she stared down at the mare she was healing. Sweat broke out over her neck and shoulders as she concentrated the magic that the moon goddess had gifted her on the task at hand. When the pale mare lifted her head and spoke again, Evangeline allowed her healing magic to dissipate. Her attention then turned toward the foals and, though they were standing and appeared healthy, she still allowed her healing magic to sweep over them just to be assured that both foals were healthy. She knew the difficulty that came with birthing twins and she knew how often one could suffer some kind of defect while the other was perfectly healthy.

The filly, it appeared, was perfectly healthy while the colt was not. Her brow furrowed as her magic sought out the infection in his lungs and tried to neutralize it, but the mare was already so exhausted from healing the mother that she could not totally heal the colt. "Your son has an infection in his lungs." She informed the mare as she stood and allowed her children to drink. "I've done what I can, but he is in no serious danger. It should finish healing on its own, but if it seems to get worse come find me."

With the mare and her foals taken care of Evangeline finally took notice of the massive stallion that was speaking in a very casual manner with Nyx. 'The father?' Tallis asked as he settled his weight on her back, but Eva simply shrugged her marked shoulders. It didn't matter to her whether or not the stallion was the foal's father or not. If Nyx didn't want him there she would have run him off already, but that certainly wasn't the case judging by the banter between the two.

When he finally took notice of her and introduced himself she nodded to him. "Evangeline.", she offered her name, but it seemed that the crowd was not yet finished growing. A pale white filly stumbled in, limping badly on her forelegs, which was immediately a cause of concern for the orange mare. "I am." She replied softly as the girl asked if she was a healer. When the girl asked if she could speak to her when she had time Evangeline lifted her head and glanced around, taking note of yet another stallion that had arrived, one that she knew didn't belong there. Since when were borders forgotten because of a birth?

"I have time now." Evangeline said to the filly. "I don't believe my services are needed here any longer." Her gaze drifted from the blood bay stallion to Tembovu, the look in her eyes saying that she assumed he would keep an eye on the trespasser while she attended to the filly. "Come along and tell me what you need." With that said she turned and left the gathering to find a place more private to attend to her next patient.


"."


ooc://
Eva out c:



and you know this is more than you can take
full image/stock credits

@Nyx

Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
#10
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls
the most massive characters are seared with scars
He grins as she returns his banter in full force— indeed, she was healed and in fine form. He bobs his head as she names, “That’s a fine name for her,” he rumbles once more. His skin twitches as the claw marks on his shoulder from the tiger goddess itch in their slow-healing. The swim back from the Isles had cleaned the wound and blood, at least. It had been agony for his broken rib.

As she thanked Evangeline, speaking a solemn thanks. Tembovu’s eyes darkened momentarily, for he did not like the dark feeling that laced through him at the thought of Nyx dying. He had but a feebly claim on the mare, but he still felt a camaraderie with the woman he had sparred and mounted.

His mind is yanked away from such dour thoughts as his little porcelain doll, Erthe, appeared. He had seen her swatted during the fight, but has assumed that the Earth God an his healers had taken care of her wounds. He had spirited her to his side during the battle, after all. That seemed to not be the case, as the usually spritely filly was painfully limping. “Erthe?” The surprise and worry in his deep voice cut off as another appeared in the clearing.

He smelled of mountains, snow, and Basin. He was not of the Edge. Tembovu’s ears uncharacteristically tilt back as he takes an aggressive step towards the blood bay stud. Though his appearance is prompts explained as he addresses Nyx and his children.

To his relief, Evangeline takes Erthe away to be healed, leaving him with a pointed glance towards the Basiner. He returns the meaningful look of the Moon Doctor, for he had no fondness for the Basin. Swinging his great head and dark blue gaze towards the man, who was apologizing for his trespass, he blinks once. So this was the sire of Nyx’s twins?

He studies him, finding him (begrudgingly) impressive. He was of strong height and good stature, and his deep bay coat glowed with health. A handsome crest of age adorned his study, white splotched neck. And an impressive red horn sprouted from his brow, one he had endowed to his children.

He allowed Nyx to answer his inquiry after their names. Though he addresses the subject of trespassing. “You’ve good, strong children. I congratulate you. But, there are still border laws that need to be respected. You are welcome to visit your colt and filly, but Nyx will escort you to our boundaries,” there was a bite to his words, though he tempered it with his impassive (and warmth) face. “And the Edge is capable of ensuring the safety of both of them and Nyx,” his brows raise as slight smile crosses his face, “Though, I trust you know that Nyx needs little looking after.” He grins slightly and glances to the new mother.

His ears flick sideways as the dragon who has accompanied the Moon Doctor flapped back to the birthing site. The elephant perked his ears, cocking his head to the side as the dragon eyed him with purpose. He squawked a warning bout of flame as Tembovu hesitated in following him, and the giant man pinned his ears. "I'm coming, calm your fires Dragonbreath," he grouchily addressed the winged fiend.
image

@Nyx @Déodat

Please tag Tembovu.

d'Arcy Posts: 21
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 2 years :: Tallsun HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Laine
#11
Grey-brother is up, too, and the filly spares him an affectionate glance and a huff of air from her nostrils. They have a lifetime to play and interact, however - right now, her priority is her rumbling belly. Others are gathered around, but she has eyes for none but Mother, and when the mare finally rises, her eyes glow with hungry greed. The leg shifts and the red girl dives towards the teats, drinking hungrily. Her first milk flows down her throat, and her tufty tail swings like a lamb's as she drinks her fill. Strength blossoms in her chest as she finally backs away, milk dribbling down her chin and legs wobbling far less than they were.

Finally, she can spare a glance at the surrounding horses. There's the mare with the dragon, there's the big man with the twisted horn, and....there's him, fur like hers, white patches like hers, everything like hers.

Father.

The filly wobbles boldly towards him, looking up at him through fierce eyes. She flares her nostrils and sniffs him, inhales his scent and registers it in her brain for evermore. She stands in front of him for his appraisal, determined not to be outdone by her brother, determined to be recognised. She moves to sniff his leg, to brush her lips across his blood-bay fur, before trotting back towards her mother and finally allowing her tired legs to fold beneath her. She whickers to her brother, inviting him to come and lie next to her and share his body's warmth with her, before she lapses into a deep, contented sleep. There will  be time to explore and play later - for now, she needs to rest, after the hard work of being born. 

when I tell you that i love you
don't test my love
accept my love, don't test my love
cause maybe i don't love you all that much


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