12-01-2015, 11:37 AM
As the days grew colder, Kat's abdomen expanded in perfect harmony with the ever lengthening nights. Beqanna was in the depths of winter, with snow clinging like an ivory blanket over all the land. This was, perhaps, the most difficult winter the glittery mare had ever endured. New aches plagued her, writhing from within terrorized her. Sure, she was healthy, as was evidenced by the pregnancy glow she sported. Yet, to say she flourished would be a lie. Some of her displeasure was based upon the inevitable discomfort that bringing new life to the Earth brought...but if she was being honest, the vast majority was simply fear. She was terrified. She was not the mothering kind. She hadn't the slightest clue what nurturing was supposed to be. She feared for the thing inside her, caring for it without consciously acknowledging that she did. She couldn't keep it no more than she could sprout thumbs and write this post. It -he- deserved better than what she could provide, and the knowledge of that terrified her.
She had contemplated the Adoption Den, thinking back to the place where she herself had gotten her start at life, but quickly she decided that it was not good enough for him. She would not set her only flesh and blood down the same path her own careless mother had set her daughter down. The path of nothingness, and wandering. The path of no family, or purpose. She would not do that to her own. She thought of taking him to one of the light Kingdoms, but discarded that, as she knew no one. Time and time again, the idea that plagued her was of the Tundra, and Hurricane. Their tryst had been nothing but heated blood and a melding of bodies, not of emotional connection. He owed Kat nothing, after all it was she who had succumbed, after a lifetime of resisting, to the potent call of lust. No, he owed her nothing, but perhaps he would take his own blood. Surely he must be a better parent than what she could be. He did, after all, command a Kingdom. He had to possess some sense of selflessness.
So late at night, she began her long journey from the Meadow. Her round frame was not as efficient at travel as she'd expected, and thus her adventure took her a handful of days before she'd even come close to the tundra's borders. As it were, she stood hesitating on the outskirts, in the shadow of a large mountain. The wind was violent, burning the cold deep into her bones. So much so, that the tiny creature she housed writhed within. She shuddered, her form almost lost in the snow flurry save for the patches of red that stood out starkly against the white backdrop. She called out, her voice echoing off of the mountain, disappearing into the distance. She could not know if it was lost to the Tundra, or if it had found its way to patrolling ears. The only thing for her to do was to wait, and hope that someone would find their way and permit her to enter. She had important business to attend, after all.
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katastrophe
a walking disaster