Cat Scratch Fever - Post Birth ( Eirwen, Any )

[Vineine]

****“Careful.” She is unusually tense, but then, these are unusual circumstances. ****“Oh. Right. Okay, mum!” ****With parenthood, she is intimately familiar; well acquainted with the headlong dive of childrearing. She had been deeply involved in both of her grown children’s early lives. Passing down to them all of her wisdom of the soil and sun and winds; teaching them the virtues of kindness and empathy – with these lessons, she was more firm. They could take or leave her love of nature (though she would not pretend she did not prefer they let it blossom), but of their good natures, she would give no quarter. ****Still, though she may have  spent heavy days and nights fretting over the well-being and nurturing of their children, it was never all in her hands. No by a long shot.  ****When they leave there is only hope. Hope that her hand continues to guide; hope that they do not fall prey to unkind forces. ****The mousy mare watches the greyish buckskin girl like a hawk. She bounces, shoulder deep in ferns and brush, her gawky gait gaining some semblance of grace slowly. She watches for her ears, and the bob of her short mane. It is a great relief when she finally corrals her daughter from the jungle thicket, into one of the glades contained between great kapoks. She stretches down to nibble at the grass around emergent roots, what little sun that reached them in the deep-down touches her back with warm fingers. ‘Fwends fwends fwends.’ She cannot reach out to the girl to intercept her before she is gone, searching like a bloodhound for the source of the cries. Prepare, panther-woman, there is no rest. ****“Longear...” She follows the bob of that dark mane, the shift of those perked ears. Just as long as she can see that mane… those ears… ****The girl stands unsure beside a banana tree, sniffing at the air and waiting for her mother to catch up. She is bold, but she is a good measure wary. Vineine reaches out her muzzle, chuffing against her daughter neck. “Stop doing that.” She turns her gold-brown eyes, and smiles. “Naga,” She whispers, moving next to Longear, who touches her mother’s rosy shoulder with her lips and blinks at the twins. “They are beautiful.” She does not move close, not until invited, she knows that protective instinct well. *magic-borne daughter of Prague and Elladora ****‘...Herself in the Heavens, her beam on the waves.’ - amazonian sister and mother -