Solanis
Every ache and pang and misstep is accepted as a form of penance – to whom (unknown, whatever now controls their strings) and for what (thirty years of hubris, what else?) seems to be perpetually in flux, but she would walk through fire and rip the wings from her back, if it meant her child would have a better start in this unnatural world. It’s all for them. Everything she’s ever done has been for them; her children, her grandchildren, her loved ones. They may call her a traitor, write her name down in the annals of history as one who should have died at the Mouth of the Portal, because that would only be fitting.
Truth is that if she weren’t with foal, she might have thrown herself against the God she once (did she ever stop, truly?) served with hot tears and ancient curses. She has no doubt Kaos would have killed her then and there, without reservation, regardless of past deeds or service. Some moments of insubordination cannot be tolerated, and, well… Yael would know.
A sharp contraction wraps itself around the delicate woman, squeezing her insides in a vicegrip that says she better fucking find shelter fast. All this way, hours of walking, and she finds herself… where? At the Edge of the World again? All of a sudden her forced walking seems rather foolish, and as Yael looks around, it occurs to her that if anything bad were to happen, she might just be at a disadvantage… in danger, even. The thought is sobering, and the deepest, darkest part of the golden pegasus deems is fitting. More penance. More guilt. And now her flesh will split and bleed, and isn’t that what she Deserves?
Yael finds a willow tree (even more fitting, remembering this child’s conception) and hunkers down as best she can behind the whimsical boughs. Zani too, does his best to keep guard, prowling around the perimeter very seriously, keeping his sharp cat-eyes peeled for any danger, though the truth is that for most of whatever lurks out there, he would be but a hors d’oeuvre before an equine main course. It is all he can do, and better yet, it is what Yael asks of him. So he obliges, despite wanting to cuddle up to her and try to help soothe whatever hurts. She labors on, sweating even in the rain, effort hissing out through her teeth in sharp breaths and grunts as her body strains to push Gaal’s monstrous offspring out of her petite frame. Oh, she is not as young as she once was, she doesn’t have magic to kill the pain, how could she ever possibly have carried triplets like this?!
And then there is a searing jolt of agony as her son finds his way into the Rift, and Yael is left panting, completely unaware of the scream that accompanied her final push. Weakly, she moves to tear the sac and sees that the child is a boy. Oh. How nice. "Gidon," she breathes, before covering him with the edge of her cloak and laying her head back down on the ground. She just needs a little rest...
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@Graasvoel @Melita @Clementine
All are welcome ^_^
Truth is that if she weren’t with foal, she might have thrown herself against the God she once (did she ever stop, truly?) served with hot tears and ancient curses. She has no doubt Kaos would have killed her then and there, without reservation, regardless of past deeds or service. Some moments of insubordination cannot be tolerated, and, well… Yael would know.
A sharp contraction wraps itself around the delicate woman, squeezing her insides in a vicegrip that says she better fucking find shelter fast. All this way, hours of walking, and she finds herself… where? At the Edge of the World again? All of a sudden her forced walking seems rather foolish, and as Yael looks around, it occurs to her that if anything bad were to happen, she might just be at a disadvantage… in danger, even. The thought is sobering, and the deepest, darkest part of the golden pegasus deems is fitting. More penance. More guilt. And now her flesh will split and bleed, and isn’t that what she Deserves?
Yael finds a willow tree (even more fitting, remembering this child’s conception) and hunkers down as best she can behind the whimsical boughs. Zani too, does his best to keep guard, prowling around the perimeter very seriously, keeping his sharp cat-eyes peeled for any danger, though the truth is that for most of whatever lurks out there, he would be but a hors d’oeuvre before an equine main course. It is all he can do, and better yet, it is what Yael asks of him. So he obliges, despite wanting to cuddle up to her and try to help soothe whatever hurts. She labors on, sweating even in the rain, effort hissing out through her teeth in sharp breaths and grunts as her body strains to push Gaal’s monstrous offspring out of her petite frame. Oh, she is not as young as she once was, she doesn’t have magic to kill the pain, how could she ever possibly have carried triplets like this?!
And then there is a searing jolt of agony as her son finds his way into the Rift, and Yael is left panting, completely unaware of the scream that accompanied her final push. Weakly, she moves to tear the sac and sees that the child is a boy. Oh. How nice. "Gidon," she breathes, before covering him with the edge of her cloak and laying her head back down on the ground. She just needs a little rest...
--------------------------------------------------
@Graasvoel @Melita @Clementine
All are welcome ^_^
