Last breath of a survivor

the Rift

[DROP] Last breath of a survivor

Artemis Posts: 82

Hidden Account

Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE

Sei

#22

09-10-2013, 11:25 AM (This post was last modified: 09-10-2013, 11:26 AM by Artemis.)

The doe's eyes blinked up toward her, gazing through glassy orbs at the small herd that had gathered around her. A hushed silence seemed to fall over the horses, interrupted only by the soft whisper of the wind as it caressed their bodies, sending soft sprays of white hair crashing about rocky grey legs like waves upon ocean walls. Her head lowered respectful as the crowned doe spoke, her vice strained and weak. Four lights still glimmered meekly from atop her antlered head, though Artemis found herself repeatedly glancing up, knowing what it would mean for each of the tiny lights to be extinguished.

Her words saddened the mare; she spoke of a prize, yet this was a child, likely her daughter. To be labelled as a prize for the champion of games, was akin to naming her an object; to be owned and used as required. Yet Artemis did not voice this, and simply allowed herself to shake away that nagging feeling as she twitched her ears forwards. The doe spoke of a nest; one that might protect the child - and Artemis would call it such, for it was no prize - from harm. She nodded silently, turning to walk slowly through the gloom of the forest.

She did not run or hurry as some did, mostly because the mare was dubious about her own ability to care for a life that was not her own. She was a fighter, not a lover. Would she succeed in raising this child and protecting it, if she was chosen as worthy? She did not know, though she relaxed when thinking of the countless faces she had seen - the likeliness of her being chosen to protect the precious orb was slim to none. Only stubbornness and a strange, new found motherly feeling stopped her from simply leaving, wordless, into the night.

She soon spotted part of a fallen tree, its bark old and worn, only a horse length wide but thick enough to fit her large neck within. She moved closer, inspecting it quietly as she cautiously sniffed. There seemed nothing, living or dead, inside the fallen, broken log. She could see what she presumed to be the other half not too far away. A tentative hoof raised as she tapped the log. The sound echoed slightly and the log shifted as her heavy foot struck - it appeared to be hollow. With a slight rear, she tapped the log with both hooves and the bark creaked, snapping slightly under her great feet. Another, more powerful slam found the bark cracking entirely. A sharp piece of wood cut her ankle as she pulled her feet from the hole, but she ignored it. It was nothing serious. With a satisfied smile, she eyed the log; the hole was as wide as her two large hooves and would easily fit the orb inside. The hollow was lined with a thick, slightly damp layer of moss that was grown wonderfully in the dark, dying tree. What else would she need? She needed to make it dry, somehow, she thought quickly.

In the ever present darkness, many leaves had died off - now the earth God was back the trees were being restored, yet dead leaves still littered the floor. She placed many inside the hollow trunk to line and to hopefully dry it out, then collected fresh, green leaves from the trees with the help of her large size - she had to rear up to collect mouthfuls of twigs and leaves, but it did not take her long to line the tree trunk. She ensured that the hollows either side of the broken through hole were stuffed, so that the orb could not roll one way or the other, and to protect it from critters. To further prevent this, she managed to roll two decently sized rocks to either end of the trunk, blocking off both entrances. Nothing was entering that hollow but the child.

She stared at it for some time. It was a good shelter, with more than enough room for the orb to sit comfortably and - more importantly - for it to hatch. It was spacious and would be warm and cozy, yet if it rained, there was nothing to keep it dry. Glancing up, she eyed the canopy of the trees and smiled. Rain that hit the canopy rolled down the branches, protecting those beneath from the wetness. She could use that to protect the child whilst allowing good air circulation around the hollow trunk. Rearing as high as he tall frame would allow - legs supported by a nearby tree- she managed to pull down several long branches, placing them over the hole she had created in the trunk. Nodding to herself, she turned to move back toward the dying doe.

As it was, she had not moved far from her location. Others were speaking softly to the dying doe, she waited patiently for dear Antheia to finish. She smiled at the pale-faced mare, reaching out to nudge her side in acknowledgment before turning to the mother.

"My Lady. Nearby is a fallen tree, whos bark is lined with thick moss. I have carved a hole in the center of this log, and placed a thick layer of leaves to keep the child from shifting. It is protected from both ends by rocks, which will stop the log from moving. A makeshift canopy of branches serves to shield the child from the elements, without suffocating." She said, voice uncharacteristically soft. She was unsure why, but she cared for this orb, yet she felt unworthy. If she could not save her own blood, could she save this baby? "I only wish the best for your child." She whispered truthfully, stepping back to hide among the shadows.

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