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10-30-2016, 02:18 AM
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everything I touch turns to ash Being pregnant had it's disadvantages, and she already had a long list from her experiences from last time. Flying was the most important part of her life, and she was no more than an overstuffed bird trying to fly, slow and graceless as she had to carry not only herself but her unborn foals in the air. Her swollen sides and her aching feet relished what little time she could manage these days, as the due date crept ever closer and her waistline continued to expand. How could she be a guardian, if all she was good for was an ornament which kept the grasses around the oasis trimmed? The crowd at the beach caught her attention, having chosen to use the sea winds to her advantage and coast along their strong currents. Apparently, she had missed the important stuff — or most of it, since each head she could make out was intently turned toward the waves. A large black sail dipped down to send her into a gentle spiral toward the ground, legs unfolding ready to sink into the cushioning sands. Gently, gracelessly and eventually her heavy weight touched into the sands and she sank with an uncomfortable snort. Her wings stretched outward and gingerly wrapped around her sides, a poor attempt to mask her pregnancy that she'd long since abandoned. Be damned if she would let her wings droop at her sides however, and her dual coloured eyes scanned around for any familiar faces until they rested on @Tembovu. She hadn't seen him since forever, and it was a good time as any to find out what was going on via an old friend. If it was a cause for concern, she could at least report back to her Sultana and still be useful when she was useless as a Warrior. "Tembovu." Her whinny nickered across the sandy wind, ears forward as she slowly made her way over, her mane and tail dragging along in the sands as she did. Her attention goes to the mare stood beside him and offers her a nod, and then the same is offered to the foal beside them. It's not an outlandish assumption to make that they are mates, and the child which struck an uncanny likeness to them both is the fruit of that. Her sides give an uncomfortable squirm as a small kick rippled across the muscle and her ears pinned back in response. "It is good to see you, it has been a long time. I'm Nephele, pleased to meet you." The latter part is directed to the mare and filly, the lingering discomfort grumbled through gritted teeth as she willed herself to calm in the face of her unborn child's outburst. She hoped that they would see past the aggression, for the simple fact she was pregnant, and it sucked. "What's going on here? Is there trouble?" A genuine note of her warrior heritage bleeds through, that gruff, militaristic note famously carried by some of the horses which called the Throat home. "talk talk talk" |
Uber pregnant! Nephele dropping in late to find out what's going on. Talks directly to @Tembovu and greets @Rexanna & @Kiada
“She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.”
― Terry Pratchett
Please tag Neph in all replies!
Force & violence permitted with the exception of maiming & death
