The Portal
IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE There is something beautiful about new life and the rawness of it, the innocence of it. These colts don't know what's transpired before their birth; they are a pair of clean slates, and it is refreshing to have that knowledge. Hard as it is, Volterra attempts to force aside his tempest of emotions and just focus on his newest sons. One of the boys comes forward determinedly, extending his muzzle to his mammoth sire. The stallion notices the odd scales that cover him, and has to hide a frown - is that a result of the Rift, or a quirk of genetics? He lowers his own face and snorts softly into the colt's nostrils in greeting, marvelling not for the first time at the tiny size of the boy who will one day grow into a mighty man. "Hello," comes his deep growl, although he makes a marked attempt to soften it for the colt's benefit. Erthe looks to him, and her expression concerns him. He's aware that his abrupt manner may seem flippant, uncaring almost, but it's the only way he can cope with what's happened. It is the only way he can process everything he's lost. The sudden manic laughter bids his ears to pin and his nostrils to flare in a snort, and he prances on the spot as he automatically shifts to place his monolithic form between Erthe, the children, and whatever the source of the laugh is. There's nothing there, but the stallion's quivering muscles remain tense. He shifts to try and touch his great frame to Erthe, reminded of their last meeting - there's nothing sexual in this touch though, only reassurance and friendship. "You have done well. Giving birth after what happened in Helovia...only a strong woman could have done that." He seeks to nuzzle her gently. He's trying to remain calm, a pillar of strength and support - it doesn't matter that he's dying on the inside, that he's lost so much he can hardly find the energy to hold his head up high. He needs to stay strong for them, for his precious little family, his children and their army of mothers. After all, it was his quest for pleasure that created the army of lives nearby. It's his responsibility to care for them, no matter how much he's breaking inside. "The rest of my family are just over there. Would you and the boys like to come over with me?" He tilts his white-marked head at her, glancing with concern as the other colt runs around like a maniac. At least he's stood up, and his energy is a good sign. |
