She had come to this place before. When the air was warm, and the trees still thick with budding leaves. Though now, the air was sharp with the violent bite of winter, and the trees brought forth no fruit. Her coat had grown to that of a curling length, the bodys response to the earths changing. At one point she wished to birth her son within the safety of the hollow, but her mind had wandered, and she had stumbled upon the conclusion that the hollow would not be safe. She loved her dearest Morty, but until she could truly figure him out, her child was not safe around him. Not now. So it is here she wandered, in search of a kingdom to hide in. At least for a little while. At least until the child was old enough to protect himself from the world. To protect himself from Morty. The dark femme moves slowly across the open land, bodice weighed down heavily with her unborn child. The boy who would inevitably change her life. Change her. She could already feel the changes taking place, a deep burn swalowing her whole. All she wanted was to love this boy, to keep him close to her forever. She knew that one day, he would wish to leave. And no matter what she wished she would let him go. Her heart sinks and she wishes deeply for her life to be different. For the boys life to be different. His world would be chaos the day he is introduced to it. it is fire, and smoke, darkness and light, and everything that lay betweem. She wishes secretly for a true love. Someone willing to give their all to her and ask fo nothing in return, though this is not what she is given. She is given a stallion so willing to let her go. Someone who would not blink if they were asked to bring her harm. Someone she loved with each breath in her lungs. Somone she gave everything too... and asked nothing of in return. Her heart is heavy as she comes to the center of the field, the creek that broke up the land like veins frozen with a thin layer of ice. A coal colored hoof raises and strikes fast, the resounding crack of the ice echoing through her ears. Lillith shakes her head, lowering it slowly to soothe her burning lungs. She should be excited. Alight with the prospect of her childs coming, but the painted doe can not find it in her. She finds dread in place of hapiness. Pain in place of love, and hatred in place of excitment. Hopefully a change in scenery would bring forth a new sense of mind. A stone in which she could build a new life. ((UNEDITED))
Lillith Elvira
cruel intentions