02-15-2017, 01:40 AM
Her brown eyes shift to meet his blue-green gaze, and he freezes. Almost forgets to breathe for a moment. The pain in those lovely eyes tightens his chest and churns something in his gut. But he must. For her, he must. As he breathes with her and flows his power into her, he can almost feel the calm spreading through her. He can't help it, and he smiles. A soft one that reaches his eyes. His words helped her. All at once he doesn't feel so useless. And then he is turning, going off to find her something to eat. Faintly, he hears her tell him not to go. It is so soft he almost thinks he imagines it but his heart leaps in his chest anyways, jerking back to her. I'll be right back, lil bird. He wants to say, but suddenly can't speak around the lump in his throat. Rushing, he brings her the items and has them set down near her before he backs away.
It starts, and he sees her pushing. All the worry returns to his brows, and his eyes go wide. His heart races, but he forces his breathing to remain calm. Her eyes meet his once more (damn, his heart did that squeezey thing again), and he softens his face. "Tha's it, dove. Yer doing so good. Keep breathing. Push." He doesn't know what to do, so he cheers her on, close but distanced. He wants so badly to go to her, even senses she wants him nearer. He relents a small step or two, lowering his head to her, giving her another dose to ease the pain some more. Her eyes clench shut and she pushes again, and he's there. So close, but not touching. "Push, dove. Tha's it. So good. Nearly there." He lifts his head to view the other end and he can't keep the small grin from his face as the lil tyke slides into the world and onto the floor of her small cave. She rises to stand, and he backs slowly to give her space as she goes to clean the babe's nose, allowing him to breathe. "You did it." A whisper. He admires her in that precious moment- despite the ugliness of the act that brought her to this, it was so beautiful. She's beautiful. So strong despite her size and the wrongness done to her. Still, she does what she must.
But then she is grimacing and wincing with more contractions, and the worry returns to his face as she lowers herself back to the ground. Ah, but of course. He realizes all too suddenly that the colt on the ground is too small for all that space in her belly, a belly still rounded with the other life within. Of course it's twins. Bless her soul. Reilly takes a deep breath and returns to her side, wanting so much to touch her, yet refraining. "You got this, Wallace. Keep it up. Breathe, dearie." It seems to go faster this time, at least, something he is beyond grateful for- for her sake. Although, he isn't certain the birth of the second child is actually faster or if it just seems this way. Still, he's relieved when it's over and sighs softly. Vaguely, he becomes aware he is sweating, most likely due to nerves he never knew he'd have. She moves to clean the second baby's nose and he smiles, amazed at her. For a moment, he just looks over them, frozen in awe of what he'd just witnessed.
Until she begins to cry. His heart wrenches, that she would be so affected by him bringing her something she said she'd needed. He tilts her head at her, about to say.. something, before she turns away from him again. His first thought is she's shutting him out, but he knows better. She's ashamed, hurting. "Wallace." He calls, voice low and a bit rough from the sudden dryness in his throat. He bets she is thirsty too. The thought brings him to remember a freshwater creek he'd passed over on the way here. If only he could transport some over to her so she wouldn't have to move. He can imagine how tired she is. Slowly, he takes a step forward, gaze skimming over the two lavender and white foals. A boy with wings and a girl, still wet and in need of cleaning. Before he realizes what he's doing, he lowers his head to them, blowing warmth over each tiny body and giving them a gentle nudge. The boy has some dirt by his eye, sticky with the birthing sac, and Reilly nickers softly as he licks it off him. Surprised by his own actions and worried she might grow aggravated by him touching them, he raises his head and backs a step. "Wallace, dove. You did an amazing job. Are you in pain?" He doesn't wait for an answer, sending another small wave of intoxication through her. Not so much as to make her drunk, or even tipsy, more to numb the worst of whatever ails her the most. His gaze falls to the children once more, softening when they move to stand- one a little shakier than the other. A soft smile touches his pinkish lips. "What will you name them?"
It starts, and he sees her pushing. All the worry returns to his brows, and his eyes go wide. His heart races, but he forces his breathing to remain calm. Her eyes meet his once more (damn, his heart did that squeezey thing again), and he softens his face. "Tha's it, dove. Yer doing so good. Keep breathing. Push." He doesn't know what to do, so he cheers her on, close but distanced. He wants so badly to go to her, even senses she wants him nearer. He relents a small step or two, lowering his head to her, giving her another dose to ease the pain some more. Her eyes clench shut and she pushes again, and he's there. So close, but not touching. "Push, dove. Tha's it. So good. Nearly there." He lifts his head to view the other end and he can't keep the small grin from his face as the lil tyke slides into the world and onto the floor of her small cave. She rises to stand, and he backs slowly to give her space as she goes to clean the babe's nose, allowing him to breathe. "You did it." A whisper. He admires her in that precious moment- despite the ugliness of the act that brought her to this, it was so beautiful. She's beautiful. So strong despite her size and the wrongness done to her. Still, she does what she must.
But then she is grimacing and wincing with more contractions, and the worry returns to his face as she lowers herself back to the ground. Ah, but of course. He realizes all too suddenly that the colt on the ground is too small for all that space in her belly, a belly still rounded with the other life within. Of course it's twins. Bless her soul. Reilly takes a deep breath and returns to her side, wanting so much to touch her, yet refraining. "You got this, Wallace. Keep it up. Breathe, dearie." It seems to go faster this time, at least, something he is beyond grateful for- for her sake. Although, he isn't certain the birth of the second child is actually faster or if it just seems this way. Still, he's relieved when it's over and sighs softly. Vaguely, he becomes aware he is sweating, most likely due to nerves he never knew he'd have. She moves to clean the second baby's nose and he smiles, amazed at her. For a moment, he just looks over them, frozen in awe of what he'd just witnessed.
Until she begins to cry. His heart wrenches, that she would be so affected by him bringing her something she said she'd needed. He tilts her head at her, about to say.. something, before she turns away from him again. His first thought is she's shutting him out, but he knows better. She's ashamed, hurting. "Wallace." He calls, voice low and a bit rough from the sudden dryness in his throat. He bets she is thirsty too. The thought brings him to remember a freshwater creek he'd passed over on the way here. If only he could transport some over to her so she wouldn't have to move. He can imagine how tired she is. Slowly, he takes a step forward, gaze skimming over the two lavender and white foals. A boy with wings and a girl, still wet and in need of cleaning. Before he realizes what he's doing, he lowers his head to them, blowing warmth over each tiny body and giving them a gentle nudge. The boy has some dirt by his eye, sticky with the birthing sac, and Reilly nickers softly as he licks it off him. Surprised by his own actions and worried she might grow aggravated by him touching them, he raises his head and backs a step. "Wallace, dove. You did an amazing job. Are you in pain?" He doesn't wait for an answer, sending another small wave of intoxication through her. Not so much as to make her drunk, or even tipsy, more to numb the worst of whatever ails her the most. His gaze falls to the children once more, softening when they move to stand- one a little shakier than the other. A soft smile touches his pinkish lips. "What will you name them?"
