07-26-2017, 07:28 AM (This post was last modified: 07-30-2017, 01:51 PM by Naerys.)
The passage of time is oddly difficult to discern beneath this dim and dreary sky. How long had it been since the portal spat them out here? Had it been hours, days, weeks? Or, perhaps worse still, months? At times it didn't seem like it had been that long and yet, sometimes it felt as though time had simply frozen - leaving them in some perpetually strange, dark, and wet place. Without the clear light of day to distinctly mark the hours, her knowledge of time is dreadfully limited. Today, though, it simply doesn't matter. In this particular moment - some time on some day with rain that doesn't seem to ever cease - she feels the first hints of squeezing pain in her abdomen. The sensation is odd, of course, for one with zero experience birthing foals. On some level she understands what is going on but it doesn't fully sink in yet that her day has come. Instead, she fights her way out of the thick forest - forcing herself to ignore the glowing neon eyes tracking her every move. It doesn't escape her notice that she is alone in this unfamiliar place. It doesn't escape her notice how incredibly dangerous that simple fact is - especially considering her current state.
She refuses to think about it, knowing it would only cause her to panic.
Naerys pushes forward, through the rain and toward the beach, knowing that she needs to find somewhere relatively safe (and preferably a bit more... dry). Soaked near to the bone and with an expression on her face akin to the disgruntled look of a very wet cat, the girl soon steps hoof on the very wet, sticky sand. Her hooves sink in and stick a bit which only serves to slow down her progress but as her teal eyes land on the opening to a cave, her determination becomes very real. Each step, though difficult, brings her ever closer to the first sign of shelter she's seen - good thing, too, because the clenching in her belly has grown more painful and a bit more steady. The foal inside still kicks and squirms a bit, usually kicking with the contractions as though in protest of the sudden squeeze.
There's still time, there has to be.
This is one moment where time simply drags on, her progress somehow seeming much slower than perhaps it really is but by the time she steps into the yawning crystal cave, the pain is enough to make her pause and grunt at the discomfort. Yet, she continues to pace in between the contractions - anxious, scared, and alone. For the moment she resists the urge to cry out for her mother, but oh how difficult it is to resist. The pain nearly brings tears to her eyes, something so foreign that Petyr is simply unnerved by this whole experience. The emotions coursing through the bond make the green bird anxious and a bit perturbed but instead of waiting around for his bonded to crack, he launches himself back out into the rain in search of Alysanne and Zoeya or anyone else in the family, really. Alysanne would be the most important one to bring but even little Zoeya has healing magic now and there is no denying how useful that might be in this moment.
Now completely alone, Naerys' pacing becomes a bit more frantic as she seeks some relief from the pain. Continuing to move was a bit of a double-edged sword - the movement helped her work through the contractions but it also pushed her along in the process. The foal sliding down into the birthing canal, placing more pressure on her hips. She feels heavy and swollen, a bigger mess than she's ever been. Soon she would have to do something else - something she isn't entirely prepared for but is being thrust into regardless. Maybe Petyr can find someone in time, maybe he could bring her mother here before she needs to begin pushing. Or maybe she'd have to do this all on her own, relying on the small voice of instinct in the back of her mind.
@Alysanne @ZoeyaKvasir
Also, anyone else in the family is welcome, feel free to PP Petyr finding you. <3 Ivezho tagged by request, he can pop in anytime. Not sure if Kvasir would be interested or not but just in case here's little Alerie's birthing thread!
08-02-2017, 05:33 AM (This post was last modified: 08-02-2017, 05:34 AM by Zoeya.)
The duo wondered around trying to find somewhere that made the lightning filly feel safe. Ajax had pushed her as far he dared without breaking her completely. The girl was constantly on edge fearing what might pop out of the shadows and try to eat them. Ajax sighed softly and turned his beady eyes on her, 'Calm.' She flinched suddenly as if a whip had lashed at her tender flanks. Her head whipped up and she looked around wildly. 'Me here.' Light brown eyes flashed towards the griffin the whites showing slightly. "You're... You're speaking to me?" Her voice was hushed with awe. 'Yep.' She knew that companions could speak to their bonded, but she had thought he would have to be older first. The knowledge that he could actually talk to her soothed her raw nerves. Now if he sensed danger he could let her know in words instead of movements she had to figure out.
Feeling stronger mentally she moved on trotting behind the furry red butt of her companion. Her mind wondered as she looked at the strange plants all around them. She had just started learning about healing plants in Helovia, now all of that knowledge was a giant waste of time. A heavy sigh ruffled her whiskers as she glanced at Ajax. He was so proud and confident as he lead the way to who knows where.
Suddenly a familiar green bird burst from the glowing undergrowth in front of them. Ajax and Zoeya both called out happily. As soon as he saw the pair the bird turned and flew back the way he had come. The pair glanced at each other worry passing between them before they raced after him. She knew her sister had to be close to giving birth, why else would Petyr be leading them somewhere? She wished she had been at a birth before, besides her own of course.
It didn't take them long to burst from the brushes and trees to find her sister pacing. A worried nicker slipped from her lips as Ajax whined softly with his own anxiety. She rushed forward and sniffed her sister drawing in the hormones pouring form her sister's hide. Something clicked drawing out a side of her she didn't realize she had. Ajax froze staring with wide proud eyes at his bonded. "Naerys, you need to lay down." Her voice was sharp and warm at the same time. "If you keep walking you could harm the baby, you must calm down." There was no room to argue here, they both needed to think about the foal trying to join this wild world. She turned her attention to Ajax, "Be on look out,let me know if you notice anything strange, well more than normal." He nodded sharply before turning his back and pacing around the pair his fur and feathers on edge.
"Come now sister, lay down and focus on breathing. Allow your body to take over." She paused her eyes flashing up into her sister's strained face. "Your body knows what to do, if you will only listen." Her ears were pricked and she gently tried to press her muzzle against the older girl's swollen and quivering belly. "I swear I will not leave your side until I know you are both safe." Her eyes blazed brightly as she stepped back to watch. There wasn't anything she could do besides offering comforting words gentle touches.
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Speech
Words :: 574 @Naerys Bossy girl xD
When Hemlock alerted her that Petyr was coming, Alysanne already began moving. As fast as she could, considering how far along she was in her own pregnancy, she let her hooves carry her towards her daughter. She had remained close, unwilling to allow much distance between herself and her family when everything was so strange in this place.
Luckily, too, because just jogging that short distance made her feel out of breath.
Zoeya had gotten there first, and she beamed at her youngest daughter when she heard the calm manner with which she was speaking to Naerys. Young as she was, the sweet girl already had the makings of a wonderful healer. Alysanne joined the pair, surprised to find that she had little to add after the speech given by Zoeya. “Your sister is right.” Alysanne’s pride for both of her daughters shone clearly in the smile she wore as she looked between them before focusing on Naerys. “Your body knows what to do, and we are here for the rest.”
The first was always scary - Alysanne remembered being frightened when she gave birth to Artorius - and she reached to press a comforting muzzle to Naerys’ shoulder, reaffirming that she would not be going anywhere.
Alysanne I lit a flame in my heart to guide you home.
The time between Petyr's departure and Zoeya's arrival felt like ages. By now her contractions had grown more intense with a shorter reprieve in between; leaving Naerys feeling frazzled and oddly primal. Her younger sister's sweet, innocent face is a welcome arrival and though a small smile weakly lifts the corners of her mouth it is hardly convincing and far too short lived. She stopped pacing once she saw the girl, yet she is far from still - her muscles quiver from the intensity of the pain, her whole body quaking with anxiety and fear. Her breaths are shallow and unsteady. "Zoe..." she whimpers, her teal eyes widened enough to expose a sliver of white. Her gaze is pleading until another contraction rips through her, subconsciously causing her whole body to tense. Her fear overrides her basic instinct, preventing her from relaxing and allowing the contractions to do their job. As the pain fades once more, though, she becomes aware of Zoeya's words. The girl's instructions leave her almost dumbfounded, teal eyes staring at her younger sister as her face contorts with her own confusion. "Zoe, where did you..." she begins but she can't quite finish before another contractions tears through her like a bolt of lightning. Naerys grimaces through the pain, eyes squeezing shut and jaw clenching as though it would help (it doesn't, not really.)
As that contraction fades, the pain somewhat eases with it. That's when her mother's voice rings out across the crystal cavern and Naerys dissolves into a small filly once again, choking back sobs. The sudden burst of emotions makes her throat clench almost as hard as the contractions themselves. "MOMMY!" she forces out in a strained shout and it doesn't even matter that she's three years old. It doesn't even matter that she hasn't called Alysanne mommy in more than a year. "It hurts so much." she whimpers, and as though her words could bid another contraction to come, her abdomen squeezes again and she tenses through it, crying out this time; the sound somehow small and strangled, seeping through clenched teeth and tight muscles. Though her sobs had subsided she can feel the tears welling in her eyes again, hot and stinging, but Naerys holds them back for now. For how long is rather debatable but she has no will to focus on holding them at bay.
Alysanne's touch to her shoulder helps to ease her fear and panic. It doesn't take it away entirely - that is simply impossible - but it helps her more than she ever thought it could. As the next contraction hits, she doesn't tense nearly as much. Instead she attempts to focus her breathing, calming it down from the near-hyperventilation it had been only moments ago. A single tear slips from her eye and slides down her cheek. As the pain lessens again, she inhales deeply, and though the anxiety over the unknown remains - nothing could have prepared her for this, nothing at all - she finds herself in a slightly calmer state. The younger mare shifts her gaze into the calming green eyes of her mother before carefully lowering herself to the cave floor. Zoeya's calm presence certainly helped grant her mother strength but it is her mother's presence that changes her outlook the most. Alysanne has done this before, multiple times, and though her experience is invaluable it isn't her experience that calms Naerys. No, it's something deeper, more personal. Something about the mother-daughter bond gives her far more strength than she could have ever fathomed in that moment. And strength is what she needs as another contractions hits. How each one can get progressively more intense is beyond her but that's precisely how it seems. She fights to keep her breathing steady and even - focusing on everything except how bad it hurts because that would only make her tense. Tension, she's discovered, only fights against the progress each contraction is designed to accomplish. With each one, it is increasingly more difficult. With each one she has to fight the desire to scramble to her hooves and fling herself into Alysanne's embrace. With each one she has to fight against the urge to sob and beg for them to take this all away. Help, she wants to say, please... I can't do this.
Even Petyr cannot handle the intense swirl of emotions raging through Naerys' body. The green bird paces for her when she stops. He looks rather frazzled with his beak open, nearly panting as he moves, random squawks leaving his throat. There is nothing he can do and though he himself isn't anxious, her emotions overwhelm him - their bond leaving him uncomfortable.
But Naerys doesn't have a choice. There is no magical way to teleport the foal out of her body. No way to blink and make it all go away, undo the past decisions that resulted in her current situation. She had taken comfort in Kvasir. Together they created this life, and there is only one option - the foal must be born. As another contraction hits, the pain almost shifts to an immense pressure through her hips. The desire to push is something almost otherworldly - Naerys feels nearly out of control of her own body. Sweat coats her body, and she rolls onto her side to stretch out. With each subsequent contraction she pushes back. Pushing helps to ease some of the pain across her abdomen, only to replace it with an almost burning sensation as her body stretches around the foal easing out of her. It feels like ages before the head slips out and for a moment she merely lays there groaning, wishing for it to end there and now. But it doesn't. It can't. It takes more effort to get the shoulders (and edges of the wings) out but after that it's almost simple. As the foal slides out with a final push, Naerys flops her head back down; her breathing heavy, exhaustion making her whole body feel limp.
The pressure is gone, the pain eases but moving is the last thing on her mind. Heat practically radiates off of her and the foal behind her. The desire for sleep is strong but with great effort she lifts her head off the ground, rolling more upright. Naerys cranes her head around to look at the mess of fluid and foal laying behind her. She expects an overwhelming surge of emotion, a sudden inexplicable feeling of love that transcends all reason but it doesn't come. There is only an overwhelming numbness. When Naerys shifts to get up, there is nothing graceful or ceremonious about the way she raises herself from the ground. She stumbles up onto her hooves, her muscles quivering from heavy use and pure exhaustion instead of pain. The new mother turns herself around - the air filled with an odd mixture of blood, fluids, and flowers - and begins to lick the foal clean. She operates on pure instinct; the lack of emotion behind her actions would shock her if she could bring herself to feel anything in the first place. Perhaps she is simply in shock. Or perhaps there is something more deeply wrong with her. Either way she says nothing because there is nothing to be said. Her focus remains on cleaning the filly that has since taken her first breath and raised her head from the hard ground beneath them. Hidden beneath the mess of birth is a beautiful dark brown filly with patches of white, and the most beautiful mixture of vivid blue and teal mingling in her eyes. By all outward appearances, she is perfect. But even as Naerys' gaze locks onto the encompassing gaze of her daughter, she waits for the flood of love and adoration. She waits for a flood that doesn't come.
(Holy word vomit. Sorry guys. xD Don't worry about Nae, I promise things will get better. Alerie's post will be up soon - probably after the kiddos are down for a nap.)
There is countless experience to pull from when it comes to giving birth; each one varying in some degree from the rest. Yet, nothing is known of the experiences of those being born. The young have no memories of that time, no knowledge of their existence prior to life outside of their mothers or what they went through simply being born. One can imagine, perhaps, that the act is jarring; a sudden, unwanted change. One can imagine something more simple and tender - the squeezing of a contraction more akin to a hugging sensation than a painful experience. Both would be equally right and wrong in their assumptions; simple estimations of something without concrete facts. What is known and what is consistent, however, is change. Life itself proceeds on the basis of change. It is a necessity, an essential part of life that most often strikes when things grow stagnant.
As a foal grows in the womb, she reaches a point where change simply ceases to exist. Her development hits a metaphorical glass ceiling but the only way to break past that invisible barrier is birth; and so begin the contractions, a potentially painful transition to more change. Alerie's story begins much the same as many others. Her conception was hardly unique; in fact, she is nothing if not ordinary. Being born is no simple feat, no small change but every bit of it is out of her control. The contractions squeeze on her, forcing her nose first into the birthing canal. Time, at this particular moment, seems to merely stand still. She does not know how long the transition takes. She isn't really aware of anything until her small body slides out onto the hard floor of the cavern. Perhaps the most jarring is the sudden weight and temperature change. Everything suddenly feels heavy. It takes effort to hold her head up and even then she's hardly steady. The filly quivers where she landed, fresh and unscathed; new life brought into this strange place.
Alerie is silent, eyelids heavy and nostrils flaring; half-heartedly fighting against sleep that almost but doesn't quite come. Mother's touch helps to jolt her awake, her tongue warm against the cooling dampness of the afterbirth. Yet Alerie makes no move to stand just yet, instead eyes of ocean and ice take in her surroundings; the vivid colors, the bright tones and deep shadows. It's so incredibly different from everything she's known before; so new that it's almost overwhelming. That she almost wants to just curl back up inside and never come out. But then she notices that there are others there. This isn't just a private party for two but instead a small family gathering. The dark green and white splashed one is calming, a soft, lazy summer breeze. The smaller one, though, the one painted in browns and golds - warm tones and lightning bolts - is a jolt of electricity to her young eyes. Both are equally appealing to the newborn filly but yet, neither of them can compare to mother. Her sea eyes, shiny green feathers, and constant flowery perfume are a cozy blanket on a dim and dreary day. Mother is everything.
Ultima
Birthing
