It seemed more snowy than usual today, but she wasn’t against it. It just felt different. The day hadn’t started any less than usual, but there was something more, something eerie, that made her feel uncomfortable. The child hadn’t moved all day, and that was what gave her the feeling. And as quickly as it had come, the day started to end, with nothing noticeable happening. The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky, and the Corporal moved on, patrolling. Her stomach was big, and she was the roundest she’d been this whole time, and she was sick of it. And then suddenly, she felt it. Pain.
It started slowly, like needles pushing in and out of her skin, then it go worse. It moved to a small knife, cutting along the tip of it, then the edge of the blade, then the full blade itself. She had just enough time to get to a safe place, out in an open part of the Aurora Basin, before the pain intensified and brought her to her knees. She lay down with a grunt, but that would be the only sound that the black mare would utter during the birth. Not knowing exactly what to do, she let the pain take over. It brought her to lay the rest of her body down, and she felt hot. The snow beneath her melted, and she was lost in the sea of pain it brought with it.
She was in labor for quite some time, and though she didn’t make a sound, others knew what was happening. Her body stretched and spasmed as she tried to get the child out, and each breath came out more forced than the next. And suddenly, she felt the worse pain she had ever experienced in her life. It felt like saw blades cutting up her insides, and she wanted to scream. Instead, she clamped her mouth shut, tears burning her eyes. Her mind swam again, but the birth was far from over. It was then that the foal’s feet came out. She could feel that the child was partially out, and she kept pushing and pushing for the rest of it to come out. But it didn’t. She couldn’t think, and no complete thoughts were formed in her mind, but she knew that the child was stuck, and if it didn’t get unstuck, the child would die.
Panic filled her every fiber, and she pushed hard, kept pushing, and she was almost out of breath when the child slid from her loins. The child’s head was not yet out, and as she gave one last push, it popped out, but scrapped the inside of her uterus as it did so. The mare laid there in agony and pain, trying to control her breathing. Once she had, she rolled on her side with a grunt. She started to black out, and could see white dots forming over her eyes, but she shook her head, fighting the dizziness. She looked over at her newborn foal. It had the same horns as it’s father, and she secretly cursed him. That’s what has a caused her so much pain, the horns. The foal, now with a quick check, she, was lying still. The mare, with the gentlest touch, poked the foal with her horn. She didn’t quite know what else to do, and she nuzzled her roughly, trying to get her to wake up.
“You better be alive dammit, or I swear to the Gods I’m going to skin your father alive.” And with that, she was alive, and she moved her head, looking at the mare. She sighed in relief, and stared back at the filly. “Hm, I wonder, what should your name be? Hm…how about-“
But before she could finish, something amazing happened. In the middle of summer, the lights above the Basin, silent for sometime, grew brighter and brighter, shining down upon those in the unicorn land. It filled the night sky will colors all around them, all the colors one could every think of. It lit the sky for the first time for the foal, letting her see the beauty in the world, and what it was capable of, and now gave enough light for the mare to see her daughter for the first time.
One eyes was silver, and one was gold. The silver had silver marking over it, and she carried silver brindled markings on her back. Her hair was a mixture of grey, black, and silver. For the first time, Elizabeth looked upon another horse being, and felt love. Tears welled at the sight of her daughter, one slipping down her check.
“Rhiannon, my daughter. You are mine, and I love you.”
Words
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned
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| Outcast atk: 4.0 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.0 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 6 Years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Sparrow |
Rhiannon
Power in the Hands of a Dangerous Man is Power in the Hands of an Enemy.
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For the longest time darkness and warmth had been all she had known. A steady, familiar heart beat is what lulled her to sleep, and what greeted her upon waking. Sometimes she would shift and move, but not very often. No, here, wherever she was, she was comfortable, warm, and safe. And that was all that mattered.
Yet, as they say, all good things come to an end.
The strangest sensation came over the creature, ripping her rudely from her slumber and causing her to twitch. What was happening? What was changing? Something was expelling her from her warmth, her home, her loving and safe place with the constant tha-thump, tha-thump that had become her only companion... What would dare harm her? Frail indignation rose in her breast, but it woul be months until she knew the feeling by name. No, she was still far too young, but indignation is what fueled her to thrash and move, desperate to escape the sudden, all-encompassing pressure that bore down upon her from all sides.
She felt as though she was twisting and turning, rolling around aimlessly in her safe place, hesitant to leave. She didn't want to leave, for this was home. This was warmth. This was love. Did they not understand that? She was too innocent to understand, too premature to the life that she had never met. Still, the pressure -whatever it was- must have been just as stubborn as she was, for in the end, it won.
The pressure became too much, nearly crushing her tiny, frail frame, but before she knew it, the most horrid change overcame her. The pressure released, and light filled her senses, hitting dual-colored eyes harshly. Her tiny body slipped free of it's confinements, landing in a slump in the cold, harsh snow, and an indignant squeal left her trembling lips. What was this?! No, no!
'Take me back! Let me go back home! I want to be warm!' She wanted to scream, yell, demand, but nothing could come of it, for she didn't yet understand the formation of speech. Freezing cold permeated her damp coat, causing her tiny skin-and-bones frame to shudder and tremble. With legs pulled closer to her quivering barrel, the tiny filly pulled her head close to her middle, simply trying to stay warm. This wasn't what she wanted... Eyes remained clamped shut, loathing the lights that stung her two-colord orbs.
You better be alive, damnit, ore I swear to the Gods I'm going to skin your father alive. What was that? Octaves, deep and confusing, drifted to the filly's tiny ears. Who was speaking? Was it the one who had thrown her out of her safe, warm haven? Hesitantly, indignation remaining, the brindled filly lifted her head, albeit weakly. Slowly her eyes blinked open, unfocused at first, but then dual-colored orbs slowly focused upon the simply giant form that rested beside her. Who was this?
Confusion permeated her silver and golden depths, her head tilting slightly to the side. Eyes widened slightly, simply taking in the form in front of her. Dark and foreboding, with silver accents... An object protruded from her face, a strange looking thing, but the filly was none-the-wiser as to what it was. For truly, she was less than five minutes old. Who could blame her? Still curious, however, she continued her survey of the mare before her. Instinct drove her to reach her tiny muzzle out, lips pursing as if searching, and another, almost angry squeal left her lips. She wanted... She wanted something!
The dark mare spoke again, yet seemed to stop in mid-speech. Whatever for? It was then that the brindled filly spotted the first marvel of her new world. Above the large mare was something far more vast, something far more marvelous than anything she had the luxury of witnessing. Her eyes widened to impossible sizes, watching as a confusing array of colors shone across the night sky. What was this? What was going on? Fear snuck upon her as she stared, and immediately she flinched, as if struck. This world was terrifying, yet already her mind was moving on from the warm place she had previously called hom...
Rhiannon, my daughter. Rhiannon? What was that? Could it solve this grumbling feeling in her tummy? You are mine, and I love you. Still, none of this made much sense to the filly, for she still couldn't understand the words exchanged by adults... But little did she know that Rhiannon had just been named. She also found that the warm tones in the dark-mare's vocals were pleasant to listen to, much like the tha-thump that had sung her to sleep in that warm place she had just rudely been thrown from.
Little Rhiannon, trembling due to the sheer cold of her new home, looked once more to the dark form of her mother. Yes, mother. The bond between the two of them would be hard to break, at least for awhile. A squeal left her lips again, her head raising and snapping forward in a small flail. Legs quaked and shifted, yet the tiny filly didn't rise. Instead, she did the one thing she could; she coughed. A somewhat harsh cough escaped her lips, one that nearly caused the filly to topple to the side in surprise, but she remained bundled in the white, powdery snow by her mother's side.
This was the day of her birth, a day to welcome her into the world, and from here, change would happen every step of the way. Well... As soon as she was on her feet, anyway. Until then, Rhiannon was content to lay on this ground and shiver until she was warm.
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| Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: 12 HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Talbot :: Common Hellhound :: Acid
& Name? :: Caracal :: None
Dingo |
From the way that the wind blew to the way the stars shined above, there was something certainly different about this night. As the Weaver stood beneath the cover of the autumn moonlight, he couldn't help to let his mind wander to the recent happenings in the Basin. There had been an influx of intruders, all annoying and arrogant in their thinking, proclaiming that they had all the business in the world to be here and that they feared not a thing. The mere thought of these imbeciles caused a scowl to cross the stallion's face, before he turned his head and gazed out across the expanse of the lake.
As of late, Crowley had begun to take notice of the most horrifying thing he had surely ever seen. The silver Corporal of the Basin had begun to round out in the barrel, and while he would have loved to simply poke fun at her and tease that her dietary habits were spiraling out of control, he knew that that was not the case. He could recall clearly the night long ago, when the two of them had wandered off together into the deepest part of the Basin... With an abrupt shake of his head, the Weaver gave a sharp snort to rid himself of the thought. The realization of becoming a parent had dawned on him long ago, and honestly, he wasn't sure how to handle the situation.
From his side, Talbot gave a whine, outstretching a leg and pawing at Crowley's left foreleg. He could feel the stallion's turmoil through their bond, and the pup wanted nothing more than to help his bondmate through whatever it was that was obviously bothering him. As young as he still was, the hound still had much to learn when it came to the more 'adult' issues of his partner and their herd; his mind was still wrapped around playing and sleeping the entire afternoon, or prowling clumsily after the tundra fauna, not the thoughts of slaughtering intruders of the worrying of a firstborn child.
Craning his head around to look down at the youngster, Crowley breathed a sigh. Although he'd been wary at first, he and Talbot had formed a sort of relationship that surprised even him. In a way, he supposed that the stripy pup was much like his firstborn, for he cared for him as such. Just as he opened his mouth to offer the hound words of comfort, a sound caught his ears and cut him off; it was a squeal, and there was no denying that it had come from a younger member of the herd. Something unsettled deep within his chest. "... Come, Talbot," he spoke up, his words firm, but not crude. Turning, Crowley started in the direction of the noise, and Talbot followed loyally at his heels.
Making his way across the Basin, it was admittedly easy for the Weaver to pinpoint just where he needed to go. The scent of blood was thick on the air, and in the distance, the lying form of a unicorn was prevalent. His eyes caught the familiar sight of the mare's markings, and instantly he knew it was Elizabeth, and realized what was going on. Beside her was another dark figure, dwarfed in comparison to the Corporal's body. For a moment Crowley stood, halted, taking in the sight that was before him. There wasn't a doubt in his mind now that just minutes ago, he had officially become a father; but how would he take to the position? Would he even care about the child? Or would Elizabeth coddle her and hog her all to herself? For all he knew, the child could one day end up liking those without a horn on their brow... And it was that thought that finally sprung him back into motion, closing the distance between the pair and himself.
Silently he walked, head dropped as his eyes scanned solely the little, wet filly that looked so much like himself. Her body was dark with a silver sheen, obviously gifted to her by her mother, but what struck out even more were the dual pair of horns that had only begun to sprout from her head, as well as the bright stripes lining her coat, courtesy of the Weaver himself. Finally, the beginnings of a grin pulled at his lips, and he pressed his whiskered muzzle into the filly's shoulder with a gentleness even he was unaware of possessing.
"Get up," came his voice, a patient command before he shifted his golden gaze to Elizabeth, who was surely exhausted from whatever pains she had just endured. He wouldn't be surprised if she went about snapping at him and demanding he leave, saying that he was rushing the filly's actions when she had only just arrived; but her trembling alerted him that she needed to get somewhere out of the wind. "We need to take her to one of the caves before the wind picks up any more."
From a distance, Talbot watched with wondrous eyes. The little filly was in a helpless state, and while she might have been seen as prey to any other carnivore like himself, he knew that she was some sort of exception. Behind him, the tip of his tail began to wag and he gave a pathetic whine, wishing to come closer but knowing better. Maybe once the filly was up on her feet, he could finally have a new playmate.
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul and faith
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The lights above, shining bright as if announcing her daughter's birth, had the tired mare momentarily distracted. The next minute she was joined in the stretches of light by none other than Crowley. How long had it been since she had seen him? In this light, she could see the gaze he gave their daughter, the first look his golden eyes as he drunk her in. A smile prodded his hard features, and it was almost too much for her. She smiled back at him, look at their child too. She was indeed gorgeous, and this was something they had created together: a beautiful gift to the world, that would grow up to spread destruction to those that should never have been born.
Even if she was tired, Elizabeth was soft spoken, mirroring the gentleness that the Weaver's movement possessed.
"Crowley, you've come, and of course Talbot. This is your daughter, Rhiannon. I'm sorry, I'm a bit slow at the moment, but you're right, we need to get her some place safe and out of the cold. The caves where you live sound best. Thank you, Crowley."
She stared at him, and her thank you had more of a meaning than she meant to give, if he could pick up on it. A soft smile curved her lips as she looked at him, and then it was gone. Her body moved rather slowly at first, the blood soaking into the white that lay beneath her, but she was starting to clot. Her wounds would heal eventually, but for now, she would be alright. She gave a soft coo to her child as she stood over she, ushering her to move so she could get out of the cold.
"Come daughter, we need to get you to a warm place. Your father knows where to go, let's follow him."
OCC: Sorry it's so short, I was drifting to sleep as I was finishing this
Words
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned
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[O] Shining Bright Tonight (Rhiannon, Crowley, Open)
HP: 45
