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07-10-2017, 06:47 AM
Cirrus the WindDancer
The cloud mare watched in fascination as her foals (the notion was still so new, so thrilling) found their feet, as they tested and experimented, and she couldn't help the little laugh under her breath at their foiled attempts. As she and Kiro bent to help them in turn with a gently present, sturdy muzzle or leg to lean upon, she wondered what it was like, to see the world anew, to experience everything for the first time. Cirrus, like almost all others, could not remember those first few minutes, or even months, and it was enthralling to watch her son and daughter do it all now before her, breathe it all in, blearily search for each other.
The cloudmare could not contain the joy she felt, as she watched them, and with them standing independently now (albeit shakily, but standing all the same), she leaned into Kiro's strong embrace once more, revelling in it all.
How did we get here? she asked to the bond that was empty, forgetting that there was no hellhound on the other end to reply, no Sitka to provide her with a witty remark, to balance her chaotic inner monologue. She hadn't made such a careless attempt to reach for him in years, and it hurt, it stung, but she clenched her jaw and focussed on her children, on the strong silvery stallion beside her, on the cerndyr who had become almost as much her companion as Kiro's (though he would never be Sitka).
"Eira," she said warmly, to distract herself, "Indra," she intoned, nickering with affection and gentle summons. In the aftermath of giving birth, of enjoying the sight of her children rise and live and demonstrate their newborn strength, she realised that parts of her ached where they had never done so before - her mammary glands, her 'milkbar' as it were, was full to the point of dripping, ready for suckling lips to taste the sweet milky liquid inside.
She positioned herself as close to them as possible, stretching herself out to enable them to both suckle with ease, encouraging them with gentle nudges and nickers.
The cloudmare could not contain the joy she felt, as she watched them, and with them standing independently now (albeit shakily, but standing all the same), she leaned into Kiro's strong embrace once more, revelling in it all.
How did we get here? she asked to the bond that was empty, forgetting that there was no hellhound on the other end to reply, no Sitka to provide her with a witty remark, to balance her chaotic inner monologue. She hadn't made such a careless attempt to reach for him in years, and it hurt, it stung, but she clenched her jaw and focussed on her children, on the strong silvery stallion beside her, on the cerndyr who had become almost as much her companion as Kiro's (though he would never be Sitka).
"Eira," she said warmly, to distract herself, "Indra," she intoned, nickering with affection and gentle summons. In the aftermath of giving birth, of enjoying the sight of her children rise and live and demonstrate their newborn strength, she realised that parts of her ached where they had never done so before - her mammary glands, her 'milkbar' as it were, was full to the point of dripping, ready for suckling lips to taste the sweet milky liquid inside.
She positioned herself as close to them as possible, stretching herself out to enable them to both suckle with ease, encouraging them with gentle nudges and nickers.
eagle-cry-designs | larfsalot
on deviantart
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