|| We spark and fade...!

[Storeh]

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[bg=#EE9A4D] Life sweetly drank itself into the seasons as though the arrant coolness of the spring were merely a laughable error more so than something that could take away the budding starts of a life. The sun gave little grace to the sheltered remains of the forest floor, the sparks of ice still clinging, yet to thaw for the chill of the air and bite of the breeze. It was as though small creatures were digging their teeth into the pelting of the fea as she walked without sound through the willows, head lowered and hide beading lightly with sweat. The round swell of her stomach was fit to burst, already the pain starting to choke into her sides. Ears flickering back, Our Lady of Sorrows picked her way under the shade of one of the trees to block the nipping breeze. The arching branches tugging at the trestles of her mane, plucking lightly as though a lover, something she need not be reminded of at present. Cautiously, Sorrows lowered herself to the ground, knees tucking neatly despite the extra weight she was bearing. Many a thought circled her mind as her body continued its ceaseless sweat, but they could only be narrowed to the memories of others, tempting her mind with the past. It was of common practice for the mares of the herds to have their foals in the midst of the others, privacy a concept ill grasped in their culture. Amongst the equines, the brothers and sisters, the foal was born. The stallions hardly paid heed to the practice, for it was the mare's work alone for the offspring to be brought into the world. The Cavallo Del'Isola thanked the moon and stars for her solitude, unwanting of any peering eyes to watch this so sacred a moment. The pain mounted inside of her, allowing her to sprawl herself out on the earth, tail flicking as the sweat began to bead more heartily. Pain stabbed into her, forcing her to push as a small whinny escaped her maw, silenced by the rush of her heart in throat. Her breathing began to become rushed, ears once more flattening as she pressed herself against the pain, gasping. Flinching, and pushing. Her muzzle parted with pain once more, another cry echoing into the surroundings. Sorrows prayed to the nameless gods, to the lords of the lands, to all of the isles as her bodice felt as though it were being torn open. The mare pushed with as much force as she could bear, tears welling in her eyes as the cold air dug fingers into her throat. Sweat rolled freely now from her dazzling pelting, churning the air with thin swirls of mist. The fea bit her teeth together and continued to push against the misery building inside, determined. Pushing. Struggling. Gasping, she continued. Grey eyes closed, skull straining and nostrils flaring with each breath, each frantic moment. Life had bloomed inside her, but it was time that such a life was taken root into the isles, blood onto earth, soil mixed with hide. It was the way of the breed. It was the way of this world. The foal was passed into the waterfall forest amongst the sounds of his mother's anguished cries. Insistent ailment clung to her sides as she struggled to rise. As though a newborn herself, limbs shook and quivered, body lunging toward her foal. Her tongue traced his form, encouraging him to breath the airs of the isles, taste the springs on his tongue. His little form shivered but began to breath, her grey eyes tracing the speckled framework of his coat as she licked. He made a sound as though the smallest of squeals as her ivories nipped at his withers. Muzzle nudging, she took in her son. Spindled legs and strong framed, he reminded her naught of his father, nor of herself. The star of her eye, he was, and she felt the warmth, the love, budding in her chest. 'My dearest Morningstar. The dawn waits.'

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[sibber-chow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#371e1e] Cold, a feeling with which the young foal was unaware, something so separate from the warmth of the womb. A shiver traveled the colt’s spine. Touch, the velveteen nudge of his mother’s maw. An involuntary squeal escaped into the air in consequence of his surprise. Breath, an odd exertion as a mixture of sensations and smells traveled through his body and out again. The small bodice continuously trembled, quaked with each pull of sweet aroma; he could nearly taste upon his tongue and lips smacked several times over. Lights, shimmering through an odd conglomeration of greenery. These were such a brightness difficult to newborn eyes, and his eyelids fluttered into adjustment. Morningstar, a word, a calling, falling gently upon his ears. Polls shifted and attuned to the lyrics accompanied by the sweet melodic calls of birds and the rush of running water. Such unfamiliarity… And, then, something entirely familiar and entirely welcoming. His mother. He knew her without need to contemplate the matter. Another squeal protruded from those lips to join the symphony surrounding. This noise was of greeting, this noise was entirely intended. His form began to shift, body sitting erect. A moment longer of observation upon the strawberry fae, his mother, and the young colt’s mind reeled upon his own identity. Head and eyes shifted to observe himself, a deep bay of bloody tones and white splotches. Again, eyes were upon his mother and her light red hues, then him again. Such petite a form, such long legs – he sprawled one out as if to emphasis their length. Again, his mother, much larger a form, legs proportionate. Brows became furrowed, and he was not pleased with the differences. He stood out, and he did not like that one bit. Another squeal as he lipped at his mother’s form, surely she too had noticed the differences; the bristles of fur tickled his snout, encouraging a sneeze, the oddest of sensations. Eyes crossed momentarily to try and spot the culprit of such an odd noise, such an odd feeling. The young colt quickly decided it was an unwelcome feeling and he looked upon his mother with a sound of alarm as if to say ‘make the monster, go away!’ OOC|| word count: 369 notes: silly morningstar is silly. currently listening to: morningstar - AFI

[Storeh]

[atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,392,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#EE9A4D] Confines so kept with a worldless exclaim, new life budding for itself into its place. Bestowing those grey eyes to each other, flinting between with the sparks of the universe. Eyes of the mother and foal. A smile could not be suppressed, not kept to herself, as it crossed her velveteen maw. Warmth radiated from her heart, seeping through her pelting, lifting her soaring heart even higher as she watched without the need of contemplation. The fea's offspring sat her opposite, head tilting with curiosity towards the world he did not know. The mist of his breath, the noise of his throat, each little exclamation turned and expressed. The tree of her own life had given her fruit, lowered its branches and given her hope, for her to tend with as much gentleness as she could will into existence. Muzzle nudge again, lyrics whispering love into the confines of his splendid coat, tongue licking on the hide so wet with the product of his birth. Morningstar. My dear Morningstar. Giving the world a dazzling pelt of galaxies, the little one shone with life. A laugh was produced so easily from his sneeze, ringing out with the look that was given to her next, following so closely. The smile was more than that even, a grin that stretched fromher maw wide, grey eyes sparking with feeling. The first moments of an age now dawned. 'It is all okay, little one. Nothing to fear.' Her voice was low, hushed in the expanse, soft with the pleasures of her mind. Nostrils flaring, he took in the scent of his softened fur, hearing for herself the sure beat of his tiny heart. Pride soothed her own pains, coated her wounds as she forgot all but her colt. 'Time to rise, my love.' A coo so sweetened, muzzle pressing and nudging at him in encouragement, a whinny so soft to echo. He would need to have his first taste of milk, to give him the strength of the day. Sorrows herself was hungering, tired and sore from her experience, but cast it aside with ease. Morningstar first, as it shall always be. Her foal before her own needs. Nudging and coaxing, she attempted to make him understand her want. The colt was intelligent, she knew, but may need time. Such things had to be taken with patience, with understanding, such as her mother before her had said. Her voice hummed in low as her prompting continued, teasing the words in her mind to her voice. The songs of her breed tasting on tongue, straight from her heart and through to her lungs. 'The birds of the forest are calling for thee, And the shades and the glades are lonely. Spring is here with her blossoms fair, And you are absent only. No bird that nests in the greenwood tree But sighs to greet you and kiss you, All the violets yearn for your safe return, But most of all I miss you. Slumber on, my little gypsy sweetheart, Dream of the field and the grove. Can you hear me, hear me in that dreamland Where your fancies rove? Slumber on, my little gypsy sweetheart, Wild little woodland dove. Can you hear the song that tells you All my heart's true love?' Voice to rise and fall on the breath of the wind, the birds giving grace of silent wings, the world cushioning her voice. Through the singing she coaxed her foal, willing him to stand. The world may wait for the first birth's breaths, but his actions had to be quick and smooth. Fate had motives undecided for those who could not make do. It was the way of the Island breeds to sing to their offspring's birth, to celebrate the birthing complete and give grace to the sun. Yet, her customs fell and her customs rose with each lyric and each breath. She knew she would raise her son, but she knew she would raise him different. Raise him on sun and raise him on meadow, field and forest between. Sorrows would show him the land, show him the sea, and everything that lay inland. Elemental Lord and traveling mares like herself. Morningstar would understand it all. But he would have a home as well. Terra De Rocas was were he would hail. She knew he would know a good life. Her roaming heart had to be put under lock and key if she were to survive. She wished for him alone.

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[sibber-chow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#371e1e] There was ease, pleasure flowing from his mother's words. The monster, the discomfort was pushed aside. Was it too a normalcy? Had he done something right in that moment? She seemed to reassure him that all was well, and a small smile arched upon his young lips. Ears were uplifted as well as spirits. There was nothing to fret about in this moment. She had said so. She could be trusted. She was mother. A nudging, a request, legs trembled qith excitement and fear. Mind reeled, instincts knowing what to do, but mind questioned, overthought. Body was uncertain yet. Shivering, uneasy, the colt's slender legs pulled and positioned, strained and ached. His body followed each moment in a ungraceful yet glorious moment. He stood, eyes bright with excitement, held thrusting high. And, then, he fell. Body thudded to the ground and Morningstar was yet again burdened with disdain, with failure; why was this so difficult? His mother expected it of him? It was a normalcy, wasn't it? Discouraged, the colt buried his snout beneath one of the very legs that had disappointed him. Lyrics joined the symphony that had accompanied his very birth. He recognized the tones. Mother. Again, she spoke of delight, of pleasure at his very being. She seemed happy at the very least. This filled his soul again with encouragement. the differences, the discouragment seemed less real. Muzzle lifted from its burrow and eyes gleamed with a new brightness. Ears were tall, and his body followed suit. Slowly, with more caution than before, his body balanced upon lengthy pillars. The pillars below him shifted and shivered, shook and quaked. This made him uneasy, and eyes sought his mother's form for reassurance. Was this supposed to feel so unsteady? Was it a difficulty that always plagued equines? Even worse, was it a difficulty than only burdened him. He was discomforted by the thoughts, but the sight of his mother was enough to keep him tall on his feet. Successfully, he was standing although his body continued to tremebled, a mixture of unsteadiness and the lightly lingering chill of frost, shade, and wetness. A squeal erupted into the air, a mixture of emotions, all of which wanted some sort of assurance from his mother. He was baffled, curious, chilly, and a new sensation. His stomach rumbled and all other concerns fled from his mind. He was hungry. Another squeal of want. Mother, mother, what is this, what is this? So many new things. So much unknown. OOC|| word count: 456 notes: --- currently listening to: Scarlet Grey

[Storeh]

[atrb=border,1,true][atrb=width,392,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

[bg=#EE9A4D] Shade stretched to allow shadows lengthen, bending to the sun in the heavens as it continued its slow waltz in the clouded skies, bringing bursts of welcomed light into the glades of the surroundings. Such events were unexpected, Sorrow's nostrils flaring with the scents of the day, misting away with the retreat of frost. Petaled ears pricked themselves to catch the sounds of foggy day, the breath that wheezed into the air. Heart beating soundly in chamber of smallest chest, steady in rhythm, nearest to hers. The dark of new hide flashing wet in the shimmer of daylight. Committing each smallest achievement to the fondest patches of her memory. Morningstar made the announcement of his own fragile awakening to the growing stir of the world around him, each movement of his bodice becoming sure. The mare watched with eyes speaking curiously as her son finally found the appropriate station of his feet, the weight of his legs. Wobbling, unsteady, as he may be, it was a mark he had done on his own, earning a nicker of approval from herself. Pride washing through her veins to warm her soul with his being. Emotions from her little one could be caught with ease, the confusion he radiated with each flick of ear. The smallest of words to calm such fears, the little colt began to search for something else entirely, asking for another thing, so simple, so sought. A breath of laughter to grace her velveteen maw with the understanding of that which Morningstar asked. Simplicity was a thing of mutual interest, and the fea was with understanding of what she must now do. Altering her stance, widening the gap of her stilts, the softest of encouragement gave grace to the air, a nudge from her maw to bring him to her side. 'Come, my little one, to my side. Let us feed your hunger.' Grey eyes swam with the feelings of love undenying and untouched. It mattered not of the past or that which brought her dearest foal forth, merely the sound of a calmed heart could ring such truth to tell her mind so. Drinking in the scent of her child, the closeness of their pelting, the knowing and understanding of time. There was not a single strand of doubt for the care she felt for her foal. There was no denying that Morningstar was now her reason. St.Jimmy had given her something that Our Lady of Sorrows would protect unto a grave then dug. The life she had been given once more transfered into another, smaller, container. The tree of life shifted with this new wind, sang the praises of the next generation. The seed had been sown, cultivated, and was now growing into a tree all of its own. His heart, his mind, was the product of his soul, and the mare had her mission to see that it lasted longer than her own. Love meant more than compassion. Depthless, unfathomable as the seas she had bore witness to time and time again. Deeper than the pools of this forest, more arcane than the Elemental lands her hooves had never touched. The heavens could beckon to her all that they may wish, stallions may try to curry her favor, steal her away without sound. Poetry and music, laughter and song, the basic blocks of her culture melted away now. None of that mattered, none of that she could care. Her grey eyes looked to her foal in silent stare, smile forming, never to leave. Sorrows could not know what the future was planning, what ill contrived fates destiny had conjured for fun. The paths she had wandered were moving and shifting, and she stood solid by her child's side. In the old herds, one foal was alls foal. Growing around your brothers and sisters, becoming one of the herd and calling all mother, father. Morningstar would know not a father, but he would have a mother. Sorrows had many brothers, countless a sister, numerous a mother, and even more a father, but the names were old and faded. Each memory was worn thin. Her dearest would have a life with a name, not one he had to run from. Not one he had to fight for. Not a future he had to build by himself, alone and shivering in the winters. She nudged him closer, sharing in the warmth she radiated. Sorrows would give him all she had. Then she would give him more.

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