Heffalump

He let out a long sigh, releasing tension he hadn’t realized he held, as the meeting came to an end. He sought out the eyes of those newly appointed, knowing that he would need to meet with Elsa. A strange twist in his gut accompanied the thought of the broken general— now Queen. And the new Seer— sadly his thoughts turn to Nuray as he wondered where the beautiful mare had gone. She had been so devoted to the Moon, yet now…

But these thoughts were dashed aside as a sudden fuzz of hair tickled the underside of his belly. Snorting in surprise, his great head dropped and his thick neck curved as he looked beneath his barrel. Meeting the timid, dual-hued silver and blue eyes of Hera, he smiled and gently nudged the filly with his broad muzzle as she took a few steps forward.

“Temby is Mama here yet? You said you would help look. And I'm hungry.” His smile quickly faded at her words, eyes clouding with concern as he glanced around for Nyx or Anzanie. Would either of them be able to nurse this little filly? He wasn’t sure what another option would be if they couldn’t. Perhaps they would need to reach out to another herd?

Sightly gently, his thick lips mussed her foal-fuzz mane, before his low voice rumbled softly, gently, in answer to her question, “Little Hera, I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid we cannot find your mother.” A surprisingly sharp sorrow for the little one struck deep in his chest. Perhaps he also felt it for the dam, because he knew all to well what it was like to lose a foal. “But I will find you some food, soon,” his low voice promised.

Heffalump

Cream, black-rimmed ears tilt sideways at the unavoidable torrent of tears that flooded little Hera’s grullo cheeks. They tilted back at the sudden, erratic movements that sent her tripping over low bushes, landing dangerously close to the towering cliff’s edge. The Elephant’s eyes widen in concern at the panic that overtook the filly, unsafe so close to the sheer drop.

A long, sweeping stride takes him closer to the cliff, head still lowered as he tried to angle himself between the young one and the drop-off. Muzzle outstretched, he tried to guide her back towards the clearing where the meeting had been— or at least act as a physical buffer between her and certain death.

Yet there she was, curled in heartbreaking heap of tears. The kind of tears no foal should shed, the tears of losing a parent. Warm, pale muzzle reached down, aiming to comfortingly stroke Hera’s sobbing, fuzzy side. “I’m so sorry, little one,” low murmurs rumbled from his lips, “It will be alright.”

That was a lie. A boldfaced lie. He knew it wouldn’t be alright. But he could offer nothing else but calming words and soothing touches to the heartbroken foal. His gut twisted at saying such words, but it clenched in sorrow for the little one as well. “Oh, little Hera,” these words were said on a sad sigh, “Your start to life is an unfair one.”

His thoughts of Nyx and Anzanie mulled through the sadness. Nyx had twins, so perhaps Anz would be the better option. With her pregnant sides, she was most likely already bagging milk. He sighed yet again, muzzle staying at the young filly while his eyes raised to the retreating equines, searching for his Glazier.

Heffalump

His muzzle twitched, starting to feel vaguely chilled at his point of contact with the little filly. His eyes squinted, as the icy heat rushed behind them. Then it reached inside his skull, cold flames licking his brain with an intensity he had not felt before.

Pain.

The cold heat quickly morphed into an agonizing sensation that forced a rough snort from his thick nostrils as he jerked his head up and away from the grullo foal. The stinging of his brain mad his eyes water— like when one drank too much ice melt too quickly. Except so much worse.

He blindly took a step backwards, away from the filly, eyes blurring as the vessels inside his head swelled and pinched his brain. “Hera!” Pain made his voice was a low, commanding roar. Pale ears pinned flush with his skull, trying to push the vessels back to their normal size. Vaguely, he realized that yelling at the child would only frighten her more, and perhaps make her magical attack worse. He hadn’t even known she had magic. Did she know of it?

“Hera, please,” his voice, hoarse with pain, was quieter now, “Please stop whatever it is you’re doing to me.” His head lowered to the level of his withers as pain pounded against his ears, neck twitching with each punishing pound of his giant and powerful heart. He felt every woosh of blood through his skull, the throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

A long, low breath blew out of his nostrils as he tried to control the pain with his breathing. Or, at least, control his response to the pain with his breathing. Gods cursed magic in foals! Who gave a filly such a power?! Surely it was pure folly. He needed to find the little one a wet-mare posthaste.

Heffalump

At the contrite, scared look on the little one’s face, instant guilt and concern wash over him— after, of course, the magic began to drain from his head. Though his brain pounds with the residual injury of being squeezed by expanded vessels. Ears lift cautiously, making sure that the magical pain was still receding… and indeed, it was.

Black-spotted ears tilt gently forward, as his eyes relax from their painful squint. The young filly was curled as tightly as possible in a ball, after tearing up her knees from crawling towards the cliffs. “Hera, it’s alright now. I’m fine. Please- come away from the cliffs,” his voice, although no longer hoarse from pain, is still quiet from the unusual circumstances.

Gingerly he lowers his head, teeth gritting against the wave of pain and blood that pools in his sore skull. He opens his mouth to scold the filly against using her magic again— but quickly clamps it shut. That was folly. She could not help but use her magic, it was a part of her. And, perhaps more importantly, she should not avoid or fear a part of herself.

So he takes a small step back towards the filly, softly nudging her curled back once again. “Hera, listen, you’re alright. Just… just be careful with that magic— or that feeling you just felt— in the future,” to the Elephant, magic was less of an action and more of an emotional outburst. He assumed that’s how it was for the little filly.

Raising his head once again, he now had a more urgent need to find the filly a source of food. “Anzanie!” Now his voice carried loudly, firmly across the clearing.

Heffalump

She squeezed herself into a tighter ball as he spoke, and the Elephant’s great heart pound painfully in his large chest at such a sorrowful sight. As he waited for Anzanie to appear, he blew a long, contemplative breath from his black nostrils— what to do for the little foal? He lowered his head once again, though did not touch Hera as she was still in the throes of emotional turmoil, and the King had no wish to relive the pain that still echoed through his skull in slowly fading throbs.

Though, her head raised and she suddenly was brushing her delicate, wondrously soft foal-muzzle against his own, asking after magic. His eyes shifted to meet her blinking, curious dual-hued eyes. The dark blue gaze watched her wipe blood across her cheek, and he could not help himself (pain be damned). Gently, he reached his whiskered lips to brush the remaining tears from her velvet nose, happy to answer her questions— even if he was not entirely certain of the answer.

“Magic is many things, my little Hera,” he said with his lips still nuzzling away tears, “It can heal, it can hurt, it can make or destroy things,” he lifted his head away from her, once again searching the trees and clearing for Anzanie, “It’s important that you use it judiciously— or, hmm—“ he tried to think of a word the foal would understand, “—responsibly. Or else it could get you into some trouble.” The giant was, perhaps, not the best equine to explain magic, as it was relatively new to him as well. It was not as readily available nor as widely used in Dorobo as it was here in Helovia. He still had much to learn about it. Perhaps even gain some of his own… He wasn’t sure he wanted any, truth be told, after seeing the carnage in the Rift battles.

He was suddenly ripped from his musings as his eyes found the little foal peering over the gods-cursed cliffs. Heart leaping into a punishingly fast rhythm, he his thick columns of legs came alongside her, though he felt the white cliffs tremble in warning beneath his weight. This little filly would be death of him. Attempting to guide her with his heavy limbs, his voice rumbled, adopting the commanding tone from the herd meeting, “Hera, away from the edge at least until you’ve eaten and rested.” A wobbly, emotion, hungry, and tired foal could easily tumble over the drop.

Anzanie

Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.

The noises from the distance intrigued the massive splashed princess. Her bulging belly almost certainly outweighed her childish beautiful looks. Anzanie could feel the entirety of her future within that swelling, and in there was the hope that she would retain her looks and physique once she had given birth. Would she be a good mother? Would the father of her child remember her? All these questions buried the Glacier's other responsibilities at this time, and for this she felt she had neglected her homeland and of course her newly crowned friend, Tembovu.

Within the trees and foliage surrounded by the Orangemoon colours and scents, the fae heaved herself across the terraria, unable to stay silent as her mass left her dainty daggers dragging through the hard and cold soil. The Edge was unforgiving to a creature in her state, and Anzanie sighed with the regret of what had happened on that fateful night. But not meaning to dwell on these matters, the still-naive dame continued, her splashed bodice looking dull and unkept as she continued to follow the voices.

As she came closer to where the sound was coming from, Anzanie soon began to recognise the voice of a certain friend of hers: the King! Tembovu's distinct voice was unmistakable, and with a smile already awash over her soft velveteens she felt herself even beginning to quicken the pace. She wanted to see the giant brute as fast as she could. He, after all, had not been one to judge when he had discovered and Anzanie regarded this as a kindness. But as she came closer, she spotted him - and another. It was a tiny filly, no more than a month old at best. Her pale mudded boice tinted with azure was striking, whilst her tri-horned cranium appeared doused with patches of ivory, just like the sort that spread just before her rump. What concluded to her appearance was a lion's tail fashioned in the same hues as the rest of her. She had never met her, but in the circumstances the exotic princess had sheltered herself away from most life. She didn't want anyone to see her as she was. Not even Misael.

With another sigh came a little high pitched cough out of her as she stepped up to the huge bodice of Tembovu and dipped her cranium in greeting,
"Tembovu your majesty, my friend, I do hope I'm not intruding..." She then gestured with a slight twist of her pretty neck towards the lump in her enormous belly, "I hope you will excuse my appearance at this time. You can probably tell that I'm not best equipped to be out and about." An embarrassed smile was evident through the warmth that her pale orbs showed. She then smiled as she turned to the little filly, in a warm and reassuring greeting to a little dove that was seemingly confused...

[OOC: I'm so so sorry how long this took! I have been incredibly busy but I do hope I haven't missed out <3]

" . "

Heffalump

He met the cautious, wide-eyed gaze of the little foal as she mentioned ‘trouble.’ Amusement flashed through him, crinkling his eyes and turning up the edges of his mouth, despite being so close to the deadly drop. “No, Hera. You are not in trouble. Let’s keep it that way, hm?” He winked at the filly, relieved as she finally took steps away from the cliffs and allowed the Elephant to herd her away.

Thankfully, as Hera reminded him of her lack of food source, Anzanie appeared in all her pregnant glory. He grinned, half forced as the sadness of the filly pervaded the clearing, and half genuine as he was glad to see his Glazier. “You have something to eat now, Hera,” his low voice rumbled softly to her, before he lifted his great head to nod in greeting towards the beautifully splashed mare.

“Hello, Anzanie. Pregnancy becomes you, you look radiant,” a true, lopsided smile slid across his broad features, “And there’s no need for formalities. I have not changed because my title has; I am just Tembovu to friends.” He then motioned towards the hungry, beautiful filly that barely reached his knees, “This is Hera,” he looked down to the girl, “And Hera, meet Anzanie. She is a Glazier of the herd— she makes things out of glass.” He added the explanation as an afterthought, realizing that the filly would have no idea as to what a ‘Glazier’ meant.

He returned his dark blue gaze to his splashed friend, “Hera was separated from her mother upon entering Helovia, and she’s in need of a wet-dam. I was hoping, with your pregnancy, that you’d be able to nurse and watch her?” His ears swivel uncertainly, knowing that he could command his friend to do as he asked, especially since Hera so desperately needed a source of milk… But that wasn’t just, and felt like an abuse of power.

Anzanie

Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.

Anzanie had caught the last moments of what was going on between the adult and child. The amusement flickering in the pools of her friend was warming to see. In his time of thronedom he was a kind and gentle soul which generally contrasted considerably with his massive structure. But the splashed fae knew that Tembovu was otherwise a wonderful creature and she admired him deeply. To the amusement Tembovu had shown for the little filly she too smiled warmly at the pair. The way he acted around the little thing made her smile inside too; her King was a fatherly figure to all and this was not a characterstic to be forgotten about in a rush by any soul. The Edge is gaining one incredible king, Anzanie thought to herself, whilst letting her pools roam over the face of the cliff and the mysterious drop down. She wondered what had happened beforehand for Tembovu to lightly reprimand Hera, the small creature before her. Her naive little brain did not come to the conclusion of the cliff, but instead continued to think of all the other varieties of troublesome activities that could occur at this point.

"You have something to eat now, Hera."

Tembovu's words were indirectly towards Anzanie as they lulled their way towards her lobes. Something to eat? The heavily pregnant fae had no idea what that meant. But her friend still retained his decency and greeted her just as he always did, to which Anzanie replied in a sweet and warming manner,
"Tembovu, it is lovely to see you again. And you are too kind, but..." Anzanie dipped her cranium towards the massive bulge of her belly, "Elephant is more the word I would use right now!" Her pools flickered with embarrassing humour and motherly pride. She bore life within her and that was worth enough to look like a splashed elephant for. Tembovu continued as her words about becoming king were reciprocated, and Anzanie smiled whilst replying, "But you are a king, and I'm lucky to be friends with such a magnificent king." Her words were genuine and soft, but as she finished the sentence her pools also hardened into a serious expression in an attempt to make her massive friend see just how good of a king he would be.

But all kings aside, Tembovu introduced her to the reason he had possibly been in this vicinity of the Edge at this moment in time: Hera. The little creature still seemed unsure of Anzanie and who could blame her, a fat splashed unknown dame was hardly the most welcoming thing in the world to a young creature as herself. But it did amuse Anzanie that Tembovu had to address what a Glazier was to the younger, knowing that she would have to do the same very soon.

But soon his attention turned back to her, and she was shocked at what she heard. The thought of a child being separated from their mother was horrific and all too painful for Anzanie as she remembered what it was like to be separated from her family whilst an adult. Her orbs filtered the shock and pain, and whilst Tembovu was still talking she could feel the cold winds rising and blowing her tassles whilst she gazed kindly at Hera. His question was simple: would she nurse Hera? Her answer was instant and not quite directed at Tembovu: "Would Hera like me to nurse her whilst she waits for her mother?" These words were uttered whilst still gazing at the little tri horned filly, her azure pillars so small against her own little adult frame. Anzanie watched as Hera seemed to try and hide behind Tembovu, which was no easy thing considering his huge height. And Anzanie wondered why his question was so difficult for others to answer to...

" . "

Heffalump

A low grunt escaped him as his broad back arched up, pulling his belly away from the sharp nubs of Hera’s horns as she scurried to hide beneath him. The little points poked the sensitive hide surrounding his navel, though his ire was quickly squashed by the apologetic and innocent look in Hera’s searching, silvered eyes. One simply could not get angry while looking at the guileless face of the young filly. A soft sigh blew out his nostrils as he gingerly relaxes his abdominal muscles, letting his belly sink gingerly back down. And then he winks at the filly, hoping to assuage the worried look on her petite face.

His gaze shifted to Anzanie as her sweet words lilted in the air. He smiled as she referred to herself as an ‘elephant.’ “The elephant is my namesake, you know. And, pregnant or not, you certainly are more lovely than I, Anz,” amusement colored his low words. Ears splayed, sideways as her flattering comments sink into them, a small smile and warming of his eyes as he looked to stare into her own light pools, silently conveying his thanks.

His face clouded as hers became pained and shocked. At her mention of the filly’s mother, he infinitesimally shook his head, lips pursing together as he greatly wished he could telepathically speak with his Glazier. Though Hera would need to speak of her mother in order to not forget her, for now it would be best to let the precocious filly eat and sleep. She had had a few busy days filled with heartache, long journeys, and new faces.

Giant head dropped once again towards Hera, his plush and broad muzzle seeking to nudge her towards his pregnant friend. “Well, Hera? Would you like to nurse?” His low voice rumbled as his head tried to encourage her towards Anzanie’s flank.

Anzanie

Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood.
Heat is required to forge anything.
Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.

Anzanie caught the end of a grunt eminate from the huge chest of her friend as he continued to be a hiding post for Hera. The little creature was incredibly cute, and Anzanie felt honoured to be asked to nurse her. And Tembovu... well he looked fatherly, sweet, gentle and kind. Anzanie seemed to forget the massive weight pulling down her belly and making her want to just throw herself onto the ground and stay there until the baby was born. And his words to the fae made her feel all the more sweetened, to which the splashed princess blushed whilst opening her velveteens in a smile,
"Elephants are elegant and beautiful in their way my friend, and I can assure you I do not feel lovely in this state." She chuckled humorously as she gestured again to her pregnant belly. What a creation she was in the midst of making, it was unimaginable.

But then it felt as if the sadness came rushing back as the conversation slipped back to the misfortunes of Hera. She dipped her head with the pain in her pools, but she continued on determined to be a good role model for the filly, if that's also what she had to be. Anzanie watched still with glassy pools as Tembovu dropped down to speak to Hera, to ask her if that was what she wanted.

"Well, Hera? Would you like to nurse?"

Hera seemed to continue to quiver in the presence of a strange fae in her line of sight. But Anzanie felt compelled to show how nice and friendly she was to the flaxen creaure. She watched her as she yawned with lack of sleep, and then watching her tiny cranium switch this way and that to each adult.

And it seemed that the efforts of her King were not in vain. Hera looked up at Anzanie, such innocent pale eyes and a growling stomach. Anzanie spoke softly to her in comfort, "It is always okay, Hera." The splashed fae smiled sweetly and balanced herself to allow the little filly to suckle.

" . "

[OOC: Hera is such a cutie!]

Heffalump

He watched, muzzle twitching in concerned amusement, as Hera heeded his urging guidance. Tucked tail, twitching ears, tentative steps— and suddenly she was instinctively drinking her fill from Anzanie’s udder. Satisfaction and relief settled in his chest, calming and paternal feelings that he was so prone to have easing the weight of the meeting and sadness over little Hera’s lost mother.

His eyes drifted from the nursing Hera, to Anzanie’s swollen belly. A surprisingly sharp yearning pierced through him; it lasted but a breath, before the contentment of faux-paternity returned. His navy eyes, softened and lightened with aqua flecks, drifted further up, landing on the comforting, smiling face of his Glazier. She would do well as a mother— both surrogate and real.

He gave a shallow sigh, satisfied that all was well (for the moment) in the young filly’s world. Ears flickered, hearing the vague call of someone at the borders. At first he thought to ignore it, wishing to spend these quiet moments with a foal and a mother.

But he was a new King, and Kings had duties. He threads his gaze through the trees, wondering if Elsa would meet the calling stranger at their borders— but no, that was not right. He could not shoulder responsibility onto his newly appointed Queen simply because he selfishly wanted to remain. Giving a low, quiet nicker to Anzanie in farewell, he gently touched his muzzle to the top of Hera’s rump, “I am needed at the borders, little Hera. Don’t stray too far from Anzaine. I will see you soon.”

And, with that, the Elephant disappeared into the trees and mist.