Perhaps intuition was something to take into consideration after all. The sound of wings flapping were distant at first, but soon the reverberations grew in volume as they closed in on the soon-to-be mother. Without a second thought she turned, ready to pounce on any enemy that should try to maim her, only to find someone she never thought she would see again. The words upon her lips solidified who it was, and it caused shivers to run along her spine. Her mind began to whirl, to try and process her thoughts and understand just what exactly was happening. It was her, and yet it wasn't, for she was too large and graceful, no longer gangling with wings that barely fit her shoulders. No, she was a woman, her chocolate and white mix bodice curved in all the right places, and her face showing just what she has truly experienced here since the beginning of her journey in Helovia.
The first reaction December had was to cry, to smile because Isara had actually remembered her name. But the tears remained unseen as she steeled herself, ready for anything. She had open her heart too many times to this girl, this little angel she had come to cherish so much for unbeknownst reasons; there was no need for her to subject herself to such anguish again. And so she remained poised, calm and collected with that serious expression, the one of pure gentleness she once wore for her non-existent in this predicament. She did not deserve- no, didn't need such a composure during conversation. She had chosen how she felt about December, and she had accepted it long ago. Yet why did her heart beat so much faster when she watched her move, why did her body so badly yearn to reach out to her, to caress those teal accented cheeks and embrace her like a long lost love.
What possessed her to hold such a strong feeling towards this girl, the one who cowered at the sight of her and even tried to hurt her. Why did she seek the approval of a fucking foal? She wasn't a foal anymore no, but in the mare's eyes that's what she would always be. Whether it be because she clung too hard to her past because it was all she could ever know, or if her stubborn desire to be accepted and loved by someone who utterly refused to do so drove her to remain where she was instead of turning away. She couldn't speak to her, not a single word can leave her lips, and so she stared with wide, shocked steel eyes, not even knowing where to begin. Her train wreckage of thoughts were halted when a startling kick brought her back to her senses. Without another thought she turned her ashy maw to her side, tenderly kissing the flesh and crooning softly. Her elevated emotions had startled the baby, had caused the thing to kick out, and all December could do was hope that the little one could feel her comfort and reassurance through her skin and into the womb.
This thought now was what calmed her down, brought the logic back to the front of her mind and make her realize where her priorities were. Miykael and their unborn child; those were her two main concerns at this moment. She couldn't let this reckless emotion and desire for a new life with Isara ruined what she had now. If only she knew how much she had destroyed her, how much love she had poured into her or attempted to, and to have it deflected away as if it were the worst thing to receive changed an someone's entire life view. Swallowing hard she rapidly blinked, trying to find herself again and to place herself on firm footing. Once she completed this task she cleared her throat, taking one step forward (only one because that was all the courage she could muster), before speaking in the monotone,"Hello Isara. It certainly has been a while now. You've grown quite a bit." How much she wanted to say more, to ask all the questions a prying mother would, but she was silent, anxiously awaiting the painted's response.
Talking
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