the Rift

[OPEN] Little Prince [Birthing Thread]

Romani Posts: 205
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 7
Mare :: Equine :: 14.2 :: 9 HP: 66 | Buff: NOVICE
Kasai :: White Tiger :: Wind Whip Sparrow


It had felt so very strange to be with foal once again. At first, Romani hadn't minded, for it had taken quite some time for the colt or filly within her womb to begin to grow. She had been unhindered, for the most part, save a vast increase in appetite, but there was nothing but love and adoration for the life that she carried within her. As the days passed and Orangemoon began to make way for the winter chill of Frostfall, however, the Haflinger's belly began to swell

It seemed to happen overnight, quite honestly. One day, she could move about freely and effortlessly, and the next she noticed a cumbersome bulge in her gut that kept her from moving at any pace faster than a waddling walk. Her golden-red sides were distended, outrageously wide and surely looking quite comical with every wavering step that she took, but the discomfort of it all was lessened by the pure joy and the warm love she felt every time the foal within her shifted or kicked.

Since their coupling beneath the moon, Romani stayed by Destrier's side, never straying far from the handsome Friesian that had stolen her heart. The Haflinger did what she could to mend the gentle stallion's battered heart. She was a firm believer that physical touch healed many wounds of the heart, and so at different intervals of the day, she would brush by Destrier's side with her blooming belly, nuzzle his muzzle or lip at his shoulder, and twine the strands of her ivory tail about his legs while using her shorter height at an advantage. At night she would cuddle close to the larger stallion, letting his higher body temperature ward off the chill of Frostfall and whisper soothing nothings in his ears.

It had been one of those very nights that they had decided on names for their foal, picking out one depending on its gender.

"Oof." A soft proclamation of discomfort escaped the mare's dark lips as the foal nestled in her womb gave a strong kick. It ached, a deep, concentrated pain, and the mare paused amidst her foraging through the snow to let it pass. Instead of dissipating, however, the pain only seemed to intensify, and the Haflinger felt her legs to weak.

Even though it had been years since she had given birth to Jasiri, the pains were familiar, and the sudden, deep, contracting aches that radiated from her gut only confirmed what she thought she knew; she was going into labor. Through their mental bond, she could feel Kasai grow closer, worry and concern looming in the forefront of her mind.


"Des," A high-pitched beckon, a sound of severe discomfort, and slowly the swollen mare dropped to her knees and onto her side in the frozen snow, creamy tendrils of mane and tail splayed out among the frost. It seemed that no matter which way she lay, Romani could not find comfort, stricken by the cold and by the pain, and what followed proved to be the most exhausting, painful experience she had ever encountered. Every push, every grunt, every groan and sob seemed to grant her no reprieve. Sweat clung to the mare's golden-red hide, drenching her a deep red, but eventually, a tiny life slipped from her loins and into the frozen snow. Despite her exhaustion, Romani lifted her head to regard the life she had birthed, the tender creature created from the love between she and Destrier, and suddenly, all of the agony was worth it.

A colt. A son.

They had a son. He was a dark, lanky thing, his color marred by fluid, but his eyes opened to reveal the brightest of turquoise. His left eye, however, seemed wrong, with the way that his eyelid turned inwards, but she wouldn't dwell on it. Not now, for they had a son, and pride and love warmed her heart.

"Tristan," Romani breathed, struggling to get her legs beneath her to stand and further inspect their blessing, "Our little prince. Oh, Destrier..." Gently, the sweaty gypsy nosed their precious bundle, urging him to get to his feet.

ooc: Open to any and all! Please wait until Destrier and Tristan have posted to jump in. :D

Got a Rebel Soul
With a Whole Lot of Gypsy

colourize-stock | arctic-stock | imi art


Please Tag Romani in all Replies!

Tristan Posts: 8
Colt :: Equine :: 15.3 :: 6 Months
It was warm. It was content. It was happy.

Yet all good things, It would soon learn, came to an end.

One moment It was happy, and next, It was not.

Warmth was replaced with a biting, terrible, cold. The chill clung to It, followed by a terrible, retinal-burning brightness, and voices, oh, the voices! The sounds! All of it was new, obnoxiously new, and terrifying, and uncalled for, and... And...

And suddenly It was a 'he', and 'he' had a name.


Tristan? What was a Tristan?

For a long moment he laid there like a dead thing, shivering and wet and pathetic looking, but finally he moved, struggling to straighten his awkward limbs and return to the warmth that he had been so rudely shoved out of. Blurred turquoise eyes blinked slowly, struggling to focus on the two massive frames that loomed over him, one a golden maiden, and the other a dark knight. Long, lanky sooty-colored legs stretched outwards from a tiny body, tufts of mane sticking up in every which direction and he regarded his parents with wide, curious eyes. Or, well, one curious eye, for the left itched and ached and he couldn't truly see very well out of it.

The dark knight was a massive creature; large and looming, but there was no sense of fear or uncertainty when Tristan looked at him. He was a familiar presence, and warm... The golden maiden was just as familiar, and her voice stirred something in his brief folder of memories.

Mamma. Pappa. These were his parents. These figures would love him, protect him, and cherish him. They would teach him of the world, show him many things...

The golden maiden dipped her face down beside him, nudging him as though urging him to move, and the tiny prince did just that. He shifted, balking with a strangled sound that sounded awfully fierce to him, before stretching one tiny hoof outwards, then another. With his front two legs splayed widely apart and his hind limbs still folded inwards, Tristan struggled to stand, his legs quivering to support his meager weight before he slipped in the snow and toppled over, landing with a 'ploof!' in an explosion of white snow.

It rained down, landing on the foal's small head, and he snorted in a sneeze. This standing thing? Yeah, it was hard. He better get something good for all of this hard work...

Tristan steeled himself, and with an indignant squeal, he once more tried to get upright. It took another try, followed by another, followed by a few additional spills, but soon the newborn prince was standing on his own, tail flicking to and fro.

Well. Look at that? He was pretty good at this standing thing after all.

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What is that quest that pulls me onward?
My heart is full when you are by my side.

*Please Tag Tristan in All Posts!*

Destrier Posts: 180
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 16 HP: 65.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Suli :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath & Merlin :: Plain Black Dragon :: Frost Breath Dingo
Suli & Merlin
never feared for anything, never chained but never free
I tried to heal the broken love with all that I could
Romani was my saving grace. In the past year, I had gone spiraling down, watching the ones I had loved so dearly slowly disappear around me; my friends, my herdmates, my family... I felt so disconnected to them all. I had shirked my duties, no longer finding the same joy in them as I had once held. But now, with Romani in my life, ever by my side and ever encouraging, comforting, I finally felt as though I could find a purpose again.

The gold-colored shield-maiden was heavy with the labor of our love, belly growing more and more distended as time went by. A sliver of fear managed to seep into my very soul at times, a fear that I would lose Romani and the unborn babe like with Tor, with Luken, and with Laila. But she never strayed from me, never truly gave me a reason to think that my fear may be realized, but it was a feeling I simply could not shake so easily. The gypsy loved me unconditionally, and I loved her more than I had thought I ever could again.

It was noon when it happened, the second sun of Frostfall high in the sky as the soft proclamation of pain escaped her dark lips. Bister eyes of concern shifted to Romani's form, but before I could voice my worry for her, question if the life growing within her belly had kicked out as it was prone to do, I was cut off. She pleaded my name and began to drop to her knees, and in that instant I remembered with a sad fondness the day Tor and I had welcomed Laila and Luken into the world. The child was on its way.

"Suli, Merlin," I spoke aloud, voice firm on the outside, but through the bond, there was a pulsation of frantic worry. "Gather what you can find to begin a fire." Snow had fallen quickly this year, and the gentle breeze would be more than enough to chill the child to the bone if we weren't careful. The two dragons need not anymore instruction, and took off to begin their frantic task.

Next to Romani I remained, powerless to help ease her pain, but offering soft words of encouragement, assuring that she stayed with me and watching for any sign of complications. Small she may be, but the golden warrior prevailed, and soon, our new son lay in a sooty heap upon the crimson-stained snow.

Fear bubbled within my breast when our son failed to stir for too long a time, but just as Romani gently bumped her nose against him, he finally stirred. A hefty breath of relief escaped my lungs, and a smile broke out across my face with a warm, breathless laugh. It was with mild concern that I noticed the way the colt's left eyelid was unnaturally flipped up. Maybe a healer would be able to tend to him, like Resplendence? Or even the Gods, if it came down to it? But the important fact was that he was alive... And he was perfect.

Bending my neck towards Romani, I pressed my head lovingly against her. "You did good," I spoke softly, before directing my gaze back to that of our boy. Our Tristan. The first steps of Laila and Luken were a memory I would cling to for as long as I lived, and it would be the same with him. This was the first of many struggles the boy would face in life, but he would learn that even when he was knocked down, he could rise again, and given time and patience, he would prevail.

And eventually, he was upon his feet, a dusting of snow sticking to his hide serving as a testament to his struggle. By now, Suli and Merlin had returned, stacking up their collection of twigs, downed limbs, and whatever else they could find. It didn't matter if the timber wasn't completely dry, as the green's was of the hottest flame. Parting her jaws, Suli blew a gentle flame to ignite it and send the wood crackling to life.

It was then that I stepped closer, pressing my muzzle gently, lovingly into the prince's neck, lipping softly at his mane as I ushered him close to Romani, myself and the fire. Between us all, he would dry quickly and ward off the horrid chill of Frostfall.

"Welcome to your kingdom, Tristan."

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You may attack and use magic on Des at any time for any reason.

HP: 66.5

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