the Rift


[OPEN] A Long Time Coming |Birthing|

Myrrine Posts: 179
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 (Orangemoon) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Watermel0nBob
#1



The last few days she had been in minor discomfort. The aching in her ankles had been nearly unbearable, but when hadn't they been, and there was minor cramping and back pain that had developed just recently in the days of her pregnancy. There was no doubt she was showing now, even her shimmery cloak couldn't hide that fact that her body swelled with the signs of new life. As active as she had tried to remain being, it had gotten harder and harder as time passed, and the child within her grew. Eyes anxiously looked around her as she reached the edge of the Edge (haha punny), ready to find somewhere to simply hide; when the contractions hit.

It startled her at first, a squeal escaping those inky lips, until the next ripple came forward and left her crumbling to the pine-ridden floor. Knees scraping and eyes suddenly going wide, her teeth began to grind at the unimaginable pain. Her dainty frame hadn't been ready for this, the contractions only growing in number, leaving her screaming in agony. She had wanted it to be quiet, the birth, to make it as discrete as possible so that she wouldn't have to tell anyone until the child was found meandering these parts. As her breathing began to quicken her vision began to blur, the pain consuming every ounce of her as her instincts tried to carry her through it. She was pushing by now, most likely; she couldn't really recognize anything over the pain, but something wasn't right. Little progress was being made, the life inside of her seemed to almost be stuck. Panic began to seep in through the pain and exhaustion, and without thinking she attempted to lift her head in order to check on the progress.

Another contraction sent her down again, a cry escaping her as she gritted her teeth and simply tried pushing again. As if a dam broke, blood and fluid began to leave her body like a flood, a small form following suit. Heart pounding and only half conscious, her instincts encouraged her to move, to do something in order to help the little bundle of joy behind her. The blood continued to trickle with the afterbirth on its way, but right now her main focus was the child. Splashes of dark fur were on a white canvas, her spots coming through on the babe's form in a lighter shade of brown. The most noticeable feature were the delicate (though very wet) wings upon her shoulders. An array of pastel colors, they would certainly more beautiful than hers as she grew. Hazel eyes filled with love, with fierce desire to protect the babe, and soon her tongue was moving over the body with the utmost tenderness, cleaning the fluid with ease. As she was so focused on her child, the littlest thing she had ever seen, she didn't notice that the bleeding still hadn't stopped.

OOC: Omg... I can't win XD. Let Laume post first please, then everyone else is welcome to follow!



MYRRINE
Life's too short to live simply

semperfeisty | xxtgxxstock @dA | leeorr-stock @dA | jerry oldenettel @ flickr


@Laume @Quilyan @Mauja (God father's gotta be there :P) @Tembovu (you mentioned wanting to join?) @Cerin ?? Yolo
Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
PLEASE TAG ME IN POSTS! :3

Laume Posts: 18
Outcast
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 1yr
Goatfairy
#2






T H E  slight whoosh, whoosh, whoosh which had been her entire existence suddenly increased in speed. It was a disorienting, panicky type of increase; this was not the type she'd been used to. All about her the pressure increased, tighter, tighter still and confusion was the first dull thought to enter her little mind. She's unsure how long she remains there, only that the time seemed endless, before there is an odd sound....like a muted "pop" and all of a sudden there is no more whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Instead, the muffled sounds she'd heard for months prior come painfully loud. She misses the Whoosh. She wants Whoosh back. This new situation is hard to lay upon and loud and lonely without Whoosh. A grimacing flinch is the reaction to her eyes being firmly licked open. Something is removed from her and all of a sudden she feels cold. The more she experienced this new place the more it annoyed her.  Instinctively, she felt curious as to this new predicament and how she might remedy it.

Her pale optics pry themselves loose from the sticky restraints of their eyelids. Everything is blue. Then something warm and velvety shoves her a bit, the world tilts, and everything comes into focus. There seems to be a rather lot of wet stuff and a lot of long things(legs) strewn about everywhere. A wobbly neck drunkenly turns about until her eyes alight upon the form she instinctively knows as Mother. Pleasure at her brilliance rolls through the filly's tiny body.

She fixes her unnerving, yellow gaze upon the form of Mother, etching this first memory into her mind. The moment is all warm and fuzzy as she reaches out her nose to touch Mother's older one. The mare smells like slimy-blood-but-not-quite-blood right now, but, underneath that, there is just the slightest hint sweet smelling pine. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh come the breath and, suddenly, the filly is struck by the comforting realization that Mother WAS Whoosh. But never mind that now, all these earthquaking kisses were getting annoying. Rather done with all the cleaning, she lets mom know with a scratchy grunt at the next one followed by a sassy pawing foreleg. Mother is still laying down, so the plump food sacks are still hidden, but the rumble in her stomach makes her scoot towards them anyways, tongue at the ready as it slides across her lips. No, there was never any rest for the wicked.

"speech, speechity, speech, speech"


Horse Stock: AussieGal7@dA, BG Stock: DeletedAcct, Manip: ExquisiteIllusions@dA(me)

@Quilyan @Mauja @Tembovu @Myrrine
-Please Tag Laume In  All Posts So Her Sassy  Ass Doesn't Forget!-

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#3
Quilyan


If he hadn't insisted on remaining close to the World's Edge, he might never have known when the time came. The stallion had spent much of his time at the borders of the land, not wishing to encounter its inhabitants and their questions. He had no wish to make Myrrine's life more difficult than he had already made it, and so he remained close without forcing himself into her herd. He would be there for his child, of course; it was his duty, and whatever foal emerged from his one night stand would be a little royal worthy of his love and devotion. But Myrrine... would she even want him around in the long-term?

But today was the day, and it was no longer the time for such worries.

He came upon her fragile form crumpled upon a bed of of pine, drawn at a gallop by the sound of her screams. An unimaginable panic struck him as he slid to a stop beside her; he had not seen birthing before (he had, remember, forgotten about Resplendence and the child they had brought to life) and could not imagine such a normal process bringing such desperate cries to the mare's lips. A chord of unease struck him - what if something was wrong, what if he had doomed the baby, doomed her, to a horrendous death - and he began to pace, chewing the inside of his cheek with anxiety. Should he go for help, should he try to do something, should he just leave her be and trust that nature would take its course?

But before he could decide what to do, a gush of blood and fluid and life fell from the mare's hindquarters, and within moments the butterfly-mare was grooming the babe. The stallion relaxed then, if only slightly, and stepped tentatively forward to make his presence known. He smiled encouragingly at the new mother, then looked adoringly at the child. She was black and white, taking her pattern from him and her color from Myrrine; small brown spots, reminiscent of her mother's coat and her father's hues covered her body. Delicate butterfly wings colored in various pastels adorned her shoulders. She was beautiful.

A new, fatherly love flooded him, surprising him with its ferocity. He knew, suddenly, that he would do anything for this child, would insist upon being a part of her life, no matter what. "Myrrine," he murmured, attempting to reach out to brush her cheek with his muzzle. "She's beautiful." He leaned closer to the child, exhaling softly near her muzzle, introducing her to his scent. The stallion did not notice that the mare continued to bleed, so entranced was he by the magic unfolding before him.

"Talk talk talk."
lumibear
Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!

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
#4
It was familiar— the scent of birth at the borders of the Edge. Once before he had scented it, with Nyx, the silver General. But then, the birth had been drenched in blood. Now, the smell was simply afterbirth, sweat, and life. New life that instinctively tugged at emotions deep within the Elephant’s barrel— a warmth that had settled after seeing the tangle of legs beneath Elsa’s wing. It was different than his first time as a father— that had been a time of excitement, love, promise. Now, it was a balm to the solitude in his chest; but it was also a fervor smoldering in the embers of this newfound warmth. An intense need to protect, to ensure that these new lives continued to pump their lifeblood for the future.

So, with these newfound (and strong) feelings coursing through him, his hooves moved towards the sounds of birth without any hesitation. His ears twitched at the faint sound of a mare’s cry; birth was never easy, despite the beauty it brought. Some price must be paid for the wonder of creation— and surely it was not given at the time of procreation; for that (generally) was pleasurable to both parties.

Navy eyes catch sight of fluttering wings that could only be Myrrine. The delicate, innocent mare had been pregnant? Was now a mother? She had been so sweetly uncertain in all the times he had met her. And so youthful, herself! She had found a sire to her child? Surprise rose his brows as his steps quickened towards the dam and foal.

But another snagged his attention, a running painted body of chestnut wings. A stallion in stature— older in body than Myrrine— stood above the child’s first bath. Gaze sharpened, studying this man. He was striking, to be certain; golden splashed with white bright upon his coat, long flaxen locks framing a handsome face. A face that was filled with awe as words fell from his lips, further supporting that this was the child’s father.

The child, herself, was a wet, fuzzy, beautiful mess— quickly being sorted by her mother’s tongue. Crinkled, slicked butterfly wings boasted colors brighter even than Myrrine’s, while gold speckled her body. “She is beautiful, Myrrine,” his quiet, low rumble faded as he watched the bright gaze fix on her dam, “Congratulations.”

His attention shifted back to the man, the Outcast. The last sire from outside the Edge had not been involved in the twins’ lives. He had arrived late to the birthing and watched as the mare nearly bled to death. Thus, it was with a hardened face that he addressed the man, “Will you be a father to her?” His thick neck tensed— if the answer was no, then this stallion had already spent enough time within the Edge’s borders.
Tembovu
The Elephant King
image | code by Avis


Sorry this was strange, introspective, and rambling. But welcome Laume! :D

Please tag Tembovu.

Myrrine Posts: 179
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 (Orangemoon) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Watermel0nBob
#5



She had nearly completed the grooming process for her child when a teeny hoof flopped towards her muzzle effortlessly. The act made her giggle softly, groggily from exhaustion before she pressed her mouth to her little beloved's ear, murmuring sweetly right before continuing her cleaning session," I'm nearly done my little Laume. Then you may eat." She hadn't taken the time to really think of a name, it had simply slipped from her as she was speaking, and even then she didn't find it to be so bad. She continued working her tongue over the downy coat, listening with one ear as the champagne stallion approached. She had scented him almost immediately when he arrived, but had decided that it would be his decision as to whether or not he would approach their daughter.

Soon he was pressing against her cheek, causing her eyes to close for a moment, just in relief at the fact that he seemed quite pleased with their little one. His words made her chest swell with pride, joy, all of the wonderful things mothers feel when others praise their little darlings. Who she hadn't expected to come out of everyone was Tembovu. Pricking her ears attentively she watched him, dipping her head politely in greeting as he looked down upon the newest herd member. It reminded of her of how she had returned the memory of the birth of his first child to him, and she wondered if he had felt just like she was feeling in this moment. Eyes shining, she offered her nose in a tender greeting, whispering softly in response," Thank you Tembovu. The Gods have blessed me with something truly wonderful."

Who knew the air would have changed so quickly as soon as the Elephant King began to question her child's father. She was suddenly moving, standing on all fours and looking confidently to her King. Although the feelings she had for him weren't truly as strong as they probably should be considering they had born a child together, she still cared deeply enough to protect him in the face of danger. She considered him a friend, and someone who would be a large part of her daughter's life; if he hadn't desired to be he wouldn't have been here at all. With only one minor sway of her body, she managed to gain her balance, but with the blood trickling down her leg she didn't know for how long.

" Please Tembovu, there's no need to be so tense. He really does mean no harm. If he hadn't wanted to see her then he wouldn't have shown up," she breathed out effortlessly, eyes gleaming pleadingly, though if he were to continue she would push forward more in Quilyan's defense. She looked to him and smiled gently, weakly, before suddenly her vision clouded and her legs began to wobble beneath her bulk. Staggering to the right she attempted to right herself, a soft groan escaping her as she didn't quite understand what was going on. The bleeding continued in a slow trickle, pooling around her right hoof as she attempted to remain semi-attentive. She was dizzy and tired, the hard birth taking more of a toll on her than she thought. Yet she couldn't fall down now or be sick, she had a little one to feed, and how was she to do that if she were unconscious?

" Laume," she called wearily to her little bundle, eyes now hazy as she continued to fight through the fatigue in order to provide for the babe," Come eat my dear. You need to gain some strength for yourself." Soon black maw was moving to the line of Laume's neck, blowing air softly onto it and closing her eyes. She smelled of afterbirth, but a tingle of soft pine was beginning to swirl into her coat, along with a warmth that only could be described as her and who she was. She would always remember that smell, not matter how big Laume got or how far she went away from her new mother. The bond had been sealed, and nothing would break it in Myrrine's eyes.

OOC:



MYRRINE
Life's too short to live simply

semperfeisty | xxtgxxstock @dA | leeorr-stock @dA | jerry oldenettel @ flickr


@Laume
Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
PLEASE TAG ME IN POSTS! :3
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#6
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
(Screams—)

One, two, three . . .

(And the screams remain, burning through his mind.)

He could do nothing; he was no healer. The raw pain seared his ears, his mind, like a lightning lash down the length of his spine. He could take none of it away. He couldn't fix anything. Wild blue eyes snapped to the side. (Trees, trees, trees.) He could break things. Oh, how he could break things. (The sound of bones snapping.) He could break them and fold them into neat little packages and destroy them and no one would know

Suddenly, the world around him lit up as fire exploded out of his chest, careening harmlessly through the much-too-snowy world before colliding with a snow-laden little spruce growing in the shadow of its tall brethren. It left an odd melted patch and some soot beneath, and Mauja had stopped prancing in a mad little circle to watch it with a dull look on his face. He didn't like fire. Why had he..?

"Ow, ow-ow-ow, ow," he winced, his train of thought broken; the skin on his chest was a little seared, a little crisp and tender. He could smell the distasteful scent of fire-induced blisters and singed hair, and grimaced.

And still someone was screaming as if she was being murdered.

(Maybe she was.)

Mauja could not heal, but he could damn well protect (—destroy). So why wasn't he? Why wasn't he running towards the sound? Why was he staring at a tree he'd accidentally blasted with fire? He looked about himself again; the snow was almost to his fetlocks here, and he could see his tracks as he'd run around in tight circles—but he couldn't remember doing it. Perhaps, he thought wryly as the screams still rang around him, I have finally gone mad, after all.

And then he was running, and the cries were growing softer. (Am I too late?) Finally, they ceased, but Mauja flowed on, until—

There was Tembovu, and there was Myrrine, and there was a stranger, and a little newly born girl. The snow was stained red with blood and afterbirth and other things which made him want to shriek and run away, and he smelled tension and blood and broke into a high-kneed trot around the edge of those gathered, white smoke billowing out in snorts from wide nostrils. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.

(First of all, Myrrine had no place being pregnant at all—)

Shut up.

He came to an abrupt stand-still somewhere behind them, his gaze drawn to the bloodied mess of Myrrine's tail and the fresh red still seeping down her hindleg. It came from that place underneath her tail, and he didn't know what to make of it. What to feel about it. He couldn't even look at the others, because—there was blood. He frowned.

"Healer," he finally said, though his voice sounded odd in his ears. He couldn't quite figure out why, though, and as his gaze swept across the others again, his heart picked up its pace with a sickening whoosh. Why was no one else noticing that she was bleeding? Why did no one else care that there was a crimson pool starting to form around her in the snow? Was he seeing things? "Healer," he croaked again, quietly, wondering if he was even there—or if they were there at all. Maybe he was just imagining them. Or maybe he had died and that was why he felt so strange, and they couldn't see him as he stood there on the edge of them with his nostrils wide and eyes wide—

He cast about for anything, anyone, and in the isolating blackness there was a rush of warmth.

(We are here, they whispered, one of flame, one of ice, and he felt their wings beat the air. He felt them spread out, still whispering that little promise, that little tether to reality, and he knew what they were looking for.)

He knew, because he was part of them, and with a lost, wide-eyed look he started to back away into the shadows.

[ Hello everyone, have a Mad Mauja. || @Tilney @Alysanne @Evangeline -- Mauja's owls are looking for a healer. ]
Mauja
the white queen
image credits
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Alysanne the Devoted Posts: 641
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 hh :: 11 years HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Hemlock :: Flammulated Owl :: Heal & Cypress :: Great Horned Owl :: None Sarah
#7

we heal with love

Hemlock noticed the owls first, calling out to them to alert them of Alysanne’s presence before taking off from her head to fly toward them. The small flammulated owl seemed not to notice the size difference between himself and Mauja’s owls - seeing them only as brethren, creatures he could actually communicate with with the hoots and calls of their kind.

But Alysanne already knew - already assumed the worst - when she recognized them. Whenever she was needed - whenever a healer was needed - Alysanne felt her body turn to lead. Her heart and stomach would drop with a weight that was solid enough that it could keep her rooted to the spot just from fear. But she had long since learned that time meant everything in these situations and no longer let herself become weighted down by uncertainty and fear. Of all the things in her life - the life of a healer was something she knew with absolute certainty. She had been made for this.

Dropping the herb that was in her mouth as she shuffled around the garden, she took off at a quick canter through the snowy woods, following her owl guides until they found a very familiar figure standing, watching a scene before him. No longer did Mauja inspire pangs of jealousy in her. Hate was still so new, it seemed that Alysanne was incapable of directing the emotion toward more than one at a time.

“What is it Mauja?” She came up beside the spotted unicorn, looking him over and noted the slight singed hair on his chest. It didn’t look too bad but her green eyes narrowed as they looked up to his face. Free of venom or malice, her voice was chiding as though she was speaking to one of her foals. “I’ll be back to deal with you in a moment.” When would he learn not to play with fire?

But the small crowd was drawing her attention and her instincts told her that the minor blistering on Mauja was not the injury that required her full attention right in this moment. So she stepped away from him and toward the others.

“Quilyan?” His name slipped from her in utter shock as she approached and watched him behave like a father to Myrinne’s new daughter. The last she had heard, he had been with Resplendence! But there was no time to gossip (and how she knew how quickly Helovian stallions moved from mare to mare!). Impassive green eyes barely passed over Tembovu before softening as she looked to Myrrine. And as joyful as this moment was, always the healer Aly saw the blood before she saw anything else. Too much to just be the product of the birth, and still flowing.

The memories of the Moon Goddess swirled in the back of her mind but she shut them out quickly. Not this one. Her herd mates would surely aid her in her quest if she asked them but this was not the time. “Congratulations Myrinne.” She knew the butterfly girl - remembered when Kahlua had brought her home, remembered how she had played with Ilios as they learned how to fly. Somehow that little filly had become old enough to give birth. Perhaps not quite old enough however, as her body seemed to rebel against the action.

“Your daughter is so beautiful.” She croons softly at the mare, coming to stand by her side - encouraging her to focus her attention forward as Alysanne released tendrils of dark wind, rising like mist from her and focusing on the back half of Myrrine - to repair what damage had been caused by the birth. She guides the healing magic from the corner of her eye, hoping that if either of the stallions noticed and had any sense (as unlikely as it as) they would continue to distract the butterfly girls until the mother was healed. It didn’t seem that anyone else had noticed the blood yet - not even Myrrine - and Alysanne stood where she did so that she could help support the mare if she were to waiver and to continue to direct her attention toward the girl so that she would not look.

alysanne & hemlock

image credits
please tag Alysanne in replies
[Image: alysanne_by_schwartze-d89se15.png]
made by the lovely tamme
non-life threatening physical force is allowed at all times, but preference is to be checked with beforehand for any injuries

Laume Posts: 18
Outcast
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 1yr
Goatfairy
#8





 
T H E  scene changed from small, to small-ish, to a decent sized gathering in a matter of moments which was a swirl of colors to little Laume. Father showed up first and she found he smelled more intensely than mother. Where her spotted dam had smelled like the trees he smelled of deep earth and something slightly sharp. She liked his strength and let out a gargled giggle at his whiskers as they tickled her. Then, her middle rumbled again.
 
Ok, but seriously, where was the food? She roughly nosed mom and just like that she stood up. Awe flooded the filly as her head craned upwards to take in the full height of her dam. Would she ever be so tall!? And then came the golden question: How do I get up?
 
Her face made itself into a very determined frown as she gave it the old college try. Heave, ho, and up she goes....and there she goes, right back down, with a great thwump. Yellow optics stare at her legs with disdain and betrayal. Excuuuseee you, you're supposed to work. Thank you. The second time around she made short work of the exercise and went straight for the big food bags. It was with great enthusiasm that she finally latched down and began to suckle.
 
Well, that is, until she received a good splat of that red stuff on her nose. Surprised she lets go and shakes her head under mom's belly. What in the world is this stuff? It was so gross. She pulled her head out from under the belly to face the Tall Ones. Another male had shown up while she was busy and he was even bigger than Mother and Father! The adults were still chatting calmly so she let loose an exasperated whinny to get their attention. Was no one else paying attention to Mother?
 
 Just when she was sure no one was going to do anything a wide eyed male who looked like he could be Mother's father(Though he smelled HORRIBLE)  showed up and began saying things in a worried tone. Yes, finally, someone. But then, as he faded into the shadows her little head turned to the side in curiosity....what was he doing?  Tall Ones were weird. She turned her attention from Common-Sense-Pyschopants with a shrug. The next order of attention was exploring Dad and Tall-Not-Dad...or rather, she wanted it to be but the instinctual concern over Mother and the food supply left her rooted to her dam's side. The female Not-Mother arrived not a moment to late in a swirl of beauty and mane(No, she was not nearly as lovely as Mom) to begin doing whatever it was that she needed to get rid of the gross stuff. Satisfied, she smiles and wiggles her head up straighter in satisfaction at her good work getting the Not-Mother to show up.
 
"speech, speechity, speech, speech"


Horse Stock: AussieGal7@dA, BG Stock: DeletedAcct, Manip: ExquisiteIllusions@dA(me)





@Quilyan , @Tembovu
-Please Tag Laume In  All Posts So Her Sassy  Ass Doesn't Forget!-

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#9
Quilyan


There was a breath of peace between the mare and the stallion as they watched over their daughter together. "Myrrine --" he murmured, almost urgently, prepared to tell her all the things that he had yet to divulge, to vow to her that though he was not the mate that she deserved, he would offer himself, heart and soul, to her and to their child; but the moment was interrupted by the intruding presence of a new, large, intimidating stallion. The prince's immediate response was a flattening of the ears and the adoption of a protective stance, despite the fact that the unicorn could easily have destroyed him. But then the newcomer was offering his congratulations, and Myrrine was smiling up at him. Quilyan relaxed, albeit only slightly. Then, the stallion's eyes turned to him.

Again, the prince was struck by the hardened gaze of the unicorn. He was unsure what exactly he had done to earn the man's enmity, but he was not one to pick a fight. He lowered his head slightly, his ears flicking back in a modest display of submission, as though to show that he had no quarrel with the Elephant King. Myrrine spoke for him, but the prince's eyes never left Tembovu's. "I will," he responded to the terse query, "if Myrrine will have me." As though on cue, the mare stumbled slightly, and the prince moved as though to catch her, his left wing flaring into the air. If she allowed him, he would catch her, allowing her to lean on him with is wing across her back. A slight frown marred the steed's face, concern beginning to appear in his eyes.

A crashing caught the steed's attention, and suddenly a spotted stallion (what is it with all these STALLIONS?) appeared. Again, a certain protectiveness overtook the prince, but the light-colored draft did not seem interested in harming the mare or the filly. Instead, he was croaking for a healer. It did not take but a moment, seemingly, for one to appear. Quilyan, who still offered his side for the pretty butterfly mare to lean on, did not turn to look for the source of the spotted stallion's concerns. In his heart, the slightest inkling of something having gone wrong had taken hold, and in his sudden desperation he hardly heard the painted doctor call his name. He looked at her without truly seeing her, though it would have done him little good even if he had. His memory had long since been wiped clean, and though Alysanne would remember him well enough, he would not recognize her.

As the healer approached, the prince quickly caught wind of her little game. He remained where he was, close enough to offer support to Myrrine if she again wobbled on her feet. He did not turn, so did not see the tendrils of darkness moving to heal the pretty mare. Instead, he smiled brightly (perhaps too much so) and offered his own addition to the conversation. "Laume is a beautiful name, m'lady," he told Myrrine with a nod of his head. "She has strength and spirit, just like you." The words felt strange on his tongue; it was not that they were untrue, of course, but it was almost as though they were meant for someone else, as though they had been said before. Zarina might have pointed out that he had been through this with Resplendence, but she chose instead to chitter her approval in her foreign, marmoset tongue, so that the butterfly mare would hear.

"Talk talk talk."
lumibear


@Tembovu
Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!

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
He returned Myrrine’s tender, sweet greeting with his broad muzzle pressing gently into her own— though his attention quickly shifted to her slightly sway as his nostrils flared at the fresh blood dripping down her hindlimb. Black brows rose, but before the King could comment, the speckled white stallion arrived and pranced uneasily around the gathering. Navy gaze follow the high-kneed trot, ears swung forward to catch the billowing snorts— his eyes only widened when the unfortunately familiar scent of scorched flesh languidly drifted into his own nostrils. Gaze rakes his body, finding tender blistered skin bright against the pale flesh.

Ears tilted back, but before he can ask his friend about his injury, Mauja was calling for a healer and sending his owls to the skies. Briefly, his skin rippled, hoping that his favored and newest Moon Doctor, Tilney, would be the one the owls found. Eva and Aly had seen his dark secrets— he would rather not have them divulged around a strange stallion or at the beside of a new filly. Births were meant to be joyous things…

But his hopes were futile, as the black and white beauty approached. The way she ignored him was palpable, though his own navy gaze followed her every move; ears perked and catching every word. She remarked on Mauja’s injuries, he was satisfied to hear she would tend to them, and then focused her gentle but no-nonsense attention on Myrrine. Only a healer could master that kind of attentiveness.

As Alysanne began to heal the new mother, his attention shifted to the wobbling legs of Laume. A soft smile crinkled his dark eyes, though he watched her only for a few moments— as her sire was now addressing him. Navy gaze shifted to the handsome, chromed gold pegasus— and approval settled on Tembovu’s masked face as he watched the outsider catch and accept Myrrine’s stumbling weight.

Slowly, his great skull nodded, “I am glad to hear it,” was his simple reply to the winged man, “If you wish to be a greater part of your daughter’s life, you are welcome to join us in the Edge.” With a last smile to Myrrine and Laume, a sad glance to Alysanne, and a pained look to Mauja’s chest, the King gave a brief nod in parting and walked back into the mist.
Tembovu
The Elephant King
image | code by Avis


Tembovu out! <3

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