"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
Her tiny bump couldn’t possibly swell anymore. Affectionately, Circinae has come to call her expanding sides The Great Big Surprise, given their recent appearance over the last few weeks after an entire half-season of being unnoticeable. It also pleases her to feel that Jah-Lilah’s habit of naming things from personal muse has begun to rub off on her; “Great Big Surprise, you’re making me lose sleep!” She would sometimes whisper in the dark, when no position seemed to offer comfort. “Great Big Surprise, quiet down.” She would murmur when the little spark of life would pitter-patter along her distended belly.
But today, her normally adoring name comes out as a startled grunt as she’s beginning a trek through the surrounding mountains. “Great Big Surprise,” She gasps, staggering backwards on brown paws, “I think it’s time.”
Circinae the wolf is heaving with pain. Breath after breath it grows harder to function, much less walk as she stumbles back down the deer path. “Jah …” She thinks, blind with worry now that the moment has come and her red dame is nowhere to be found. A contraction grips her, holds her still; both hinds legs are suddenly warm and water pools beneath her. “Jaaahhhhhh!” She yells now, the tone a pitch higher than before as she waddles, splay-legged, to the cover of a graceful willow in bloom.
The tree is all she can find in the way of shelter, so she glides between the veil of bright green leaves and collapses on her side with great lungfuls of air. Worry dissipates - Jah would be here, she was never far. Canaan would come, he knew her plans and knew of the life they’d created. All that was left to do now was simply wait; hard for someone whose patience is nigh nonexistent. Blinking quietly, she does what she feels she must by attempting a shift but the will of her body is too powerful for her in this weakened state.
She’ll give birth as a wolf, something she’s not even sure can be done.
The red wytch hadn't been sleeping much lately, but she was used to the insomnia by now. However, this time was different. It wasn't nightmares that plagued her, but beautiful daydreams of her mates' new arrival. The mare could hardly wait for her to arrive. She had been returning from an outing, gathering herbs and just generally wandering when she felt it. The air was static all around, but it wasn't her doing. She smiled widely as she reached the thicket she had decided to bed down in this evening, patient as ever. The universe requires balance. Her little mousy wolf could hardly wait for the sun to rise and set each day, my firefly, however, had all the time in the world.
It came to her, a whisper in the wind, a voice in her brain, (Jah). Her eyes open wide, her body is tense. She tests the wind, straining to hear. A howling call in the night, and she's knows it is time. She is gone in a flash of spark and flame, living up to the pet name her lover recently bestowed upon her. She hesitates only a moment to grab the chamomile sprigs she had sought out just for this occasion, and she's on the way. Darkened legs carry her to the female, voice raised to call out for her other mate, Canaan. She had been craving him lately, wanting to know him, desiring to find out for herself about everything Circinae had been telling her.
She slinks through the underbrush and into clearing, beneath a shady tree where her lupine companions writhes and squirms. She creeps forth, wuffling softly and greeting her. She looks her up and down, then places the chamomile near the girl's muzzle. She begins the process of licking and rubbing on pressure points to ease the pains of birth, awaiting the arrival of @[Canaan] and the new babe. She humms softly, like trying to put a child to bed. She is large next to the small wolfen frame, but tries to be comforting. She works tirelessly, trying to provide @[Circinae] with as much reassurance as possible until the pup arrives.
And maybe, I'll find out a way to make it back someday. To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days.
The anxiety had created a tightly wound knot within the pit of his stomach – an unfamiliar feeling, to be so restless and not for any wanderlust. As she became round with the creation of their intimate union, he found himself in awe of her – he had always thought her beautiful, but she simply glowed as each dusk and dawn came and went, and it stirred a warmth within his heart he had thought gone long ago. He knew it would not be long now, until the life stirring within her breathed the fresh, wisteria-scented air of Hyaline, until he could see the beauty of birth and to stay - to love, to cherish what he had never had the opportunity to do before.
He had yet to tell her how he felt, and it unnerved him – how were three little words he felt so deeply, with the entirety of his existence, so difficult to say to her? She had become his everything. His closest companion, his water nymph – it mattered not that he was no wolf; he never needed to be. He felt as if she belonged to him, and he belonged to her.
His heart had thought itself full, until he met Jah-Lilah. He felt drawn to her, and often wondered if he imagined the way she looked at him with heavily-lidded eyes beneath the pale moonlight. He had seen the ease at which the two intertwined, and it is not envy that so fills his heart with its sordid ache, but a longing to be a part of. Time had taken him away from his boys (still so angry, still so bitter – he is certain that they will never forgive him, try as he might – the damage had already been done – still, he would try), and it had taken him away from Circinae, and in his absence, her heart had found another.
He cannot find it within himself to be jealous; he saw the purity of their relationship and he only yearns for the same. To be a part of it – he would share her, if that was what she wanted, and share her he would. He is so often quiet and watchful in the days, weeks, and months following his captivity – with a tender kiss, a gentle caress given to keep him tethered to Circinae, but he can see the distance slowly separating his pining heart from her own. The tenderness between she and Jah-Lilah kept him at bay – should Circinae want him, she would find him; he would never be far from her side. He knew naught that Jah-Lilah felt any curiosity toward intimacy with him; and he remained oblivious to the insistence of his beloved Circinae that the love should be shared, tripled.
But when the call is made, he is there – gliding over the crystalline lake with his finely preened feathers stretched end to end, with a gust of wind to carry him further, quicker. It does not take him long to find them, Circinae and Jah-Lilah, and his heart is thrumming roughly enough that it might beat outside of his chest. His graceful but heavily muscled legs carry him closer, to the beautiful mousy wolf, dampened with sweat, gently brushing the broad bridge of his nose first along the crook of Jah-Lilah’s neck, and then to the soft, downy cheek of Circinae, whispering only, ”I’m here.”
If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all, then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you.
-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
It’s almost peaceful here, for a few moments. Circinae has taken to laying on her side, the dappling of light from outside her veiled quarters looping pensively over her coat like the bright ripples of light over water. It’s warm; pleasant enough that the sweat breaking loose across her brow and shoulders won’t stifle her while she concentrates. In her experience she knows it’s best to wait, at first. Whatever she’d brought to life within was shifting, searching for that veil between their world and this one and the wolf mother can remember when she had tried to rush this experience the first time.
Oh, that hectic first time ... Weren’t first-time occurrences always hectic, though? Breathtaking and mind-expanding all in one with the knowledge of, this is happening! To counteract the knowledge of, This will never happen again. How scared she’d been back then! Scared enough to take that fateful step into the ocean while her body convulsed in pain, terrified enough to try her teleporting in order to save herself and her boys.
And now - now she’s here beneath a lonely willow, listening to the brief call of a springtime dove while her abdomen clenches with sharp, sudden pain. Her own spasming cry is drowned by the piercing tone of another - one Jah calling for one Canaan (Canaan, oh Canaan! Her heart leaps at the sound of his name on those ruby lips) and whatever anxiety she might have been combatting before slips away with the quiet entrance of her lightning girl. “Jah, please-” She begins to whimper as the scent of chamomile assaults her tender nose, but she cannot manage the rest; a gargle of agony cuts her breath short.
“Please, oh please,” She wants to say, “find Canaan for me.” It had been the whole purpose of her journey up the mountainside that day - simply to find or be found by her soulmate. There wasn’t another creature in their world who she wanted more in this moment. They had nurtured this life together, showered it together with so much unspoken joy already. She needed him - she always did - and even if hell itself tried to stop them, Circinae was determined that they would bring their child into this world together.
Her watering eyes smart, then close. “Canaan, please … Canaan.” She murmurs weakly, each new shudder coming quicker than the last.
“I’m here.” He answers.
It’s enough to pull her eyes open and her lips up into a dazzling smile. With a joyful cry she loses sense of control and shifts, (there is something innate between their spirits, wild and tumultuous as horses should be, that tugs on her whenever he’s near) the blinding flash of rippling skin trading brown for green her final act before the true trial comes. Her head rises, dark now with with perspiration, and she curls aside to make room for him so that, together, they might feel their child enter this world.
Green against gold, gold against green, her body expends the last of its energy to collapse against him and strain for life. (“Hello, my name is Canaan. And you are?”) She pushes. (“I’m Circinae, but of course you can call me Circy. That tends to be easier for everyone to remember.”) There are stars in her eyes now; the foal is crowning. (“Circinae”, he echoes, “something tells me there is nothing forgettable about you.”)
A sac slips wetly free, the small, writhing inhabitant nearly shapeless from within until it expands to press against the rubber-like material. With fear in her eyes the new mother watches the exchange of bodies and says not a word, refuses to breath until it’s evident that the foal within is whole and normal. The stillness around them is suffocating. “Little one?” She whispers shakily, hardly willing to believe that it was alive - So small and delicate!
“Help me, please!” She says to them both and yet to neither of them specifically. Canaan’s reassurance helps to lift her, Jah’s mouth is already upon the sac when her own green lips reach for it too. The activity they lacked before is now in full-swing while the pale membrane shreds beneath their teeth to reveal a downy, ivory-colored foal. Across that tiny back are quivering feathers of … water.
“A filly .. a girl! Oh Canaan a girl!” Is all that Circinae needs to say. The wings, the strange birth - they meant nothing compared to the way her daughter flicks first one, and then the other pale ear with easy fluidity. The babe is pushing airy, fluttering breaths from her small nostrils and the hush around them returns while the trio wait to hear her first sounds. Circinae doesn’t want to tear her eyes away from the scene but she does, the pinprick of a memory driving her blue eyes to where Canaan supports her side.
“I love you.” She whispers, pressing the words into his skin with the pressure of her lips. “I always have and I always will.”
09-27-2017, 02:06 PM (This post was last modified: 09-27-2017, 02:14 PM by Jah-Lilah.)
Jah-Lilah
I need you to love me, I need you to stay.
Nothing in this world ever came before it was supposed to and no amount of rushing, of praying, of bargaining could make it arrive any sooner. Every birth Jah-Lilah assisted she treated as such. This birth was different though. She wore a serene, soothing façade for her lovers, but inside she was a train wreck. She cooed and coaxed at Circinae, singing and humming as she grooms the beautiful beast beside her. The winds pick up suddenly, and she can feel the soul pressure of their missing link before she sees him. He lands and in one fell swoop, he takes his rightful place at the side of the forest female.
Jah-Lilah gives him room, becomes more midwife and less lover in this moment. She had to stay focused, stay on top of her game. She would not allow anything to happen to her family. The unborn girl, no kin to her by blood, yet treasured so much, would make a safe arrival into this wretched world if it killed my red mare. Canaan brushes his nose tenderly along her throat and suddenly she can't breath. She licks her lips and bobs her head, a silent and thankful greeting. He whispers to her Wolf-of-the-Water and Jah-Lilah is warmed all over. She continues to nose and nudge the furry hind quarters of her mate, knowing the worst is yet to come.
She is crying now, a quiet stream of tears, the honesty of their love crushing. There is nothing to hide in these small moments, reserved only for a lucky few and the Earth-Mother alone. She has been blessed. A sudden noise and in a flash, the wolfy is replaced by that paragon of equine form, and she is green on green, sprawled out in the lush grass. Jah sees how the pair fit together, ying and yang, and she is filled. She does not envy them, does not seek nor require any additional attention or affection from the two. Simply allowing her to be theirs was more than my flower child could ask for. They grounded her, bound her heart to them, she gave it willingly. She is breathless as for a moment when they make contact, Jah is sucked into the memory. She cannot see what they see, she cannot remember anything that they do, but she can feel them all around her. Their love, their desire, their passion. It is overwhelming and yet, not enough. In a flash, she knows she cannot be without them, either of them. She would kill for them, she would die for them. All of eternity, she would be by their side. The clearing grows bright as Jah emits a warm light from her very soul, unintentionally, uncontrollably. Suddenly the ground is wet at her knees and birth is upon them all.
First little legs, then followed soon after by a head and neck, and then release. Jah pushes on @[Circinae]'s flank and out the placenta comes. It is done. A cry for them to help, and as @[Canaan] helps to raise Mama up, teeth bear down upon the membrane to free the little prisoner. Just as the Earth-Mother had spoken, a perfect little girl, lookin' like her Daddy and her Mommy all mixed up in a pot. Wolf-of-the-Water cries out in disbelief and delight, cooing and fawning all over the doll already. The babe wiggles her ears and wrinkles her nose, and my mare is giddy with wonderment over what they have done. And then it happens finally (FINALLY), a confession the heart so very long overdue. As the two parents exchange soft murmurs, Jah-Lilah turn to the filly with a secret of her own. So quiet so soft, a whisper in the wind.
And maybe, I'll find out a way to make it back someday. To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days.
Her smile is enough to nearly steal his breath away, to leave his lungs empty and gasping for air. Before long, she is herself again - (though she is always herself; she is the wolf and the wolf is her, but to him, she would always be the viridescent vision of beauty and wit he had come to know so long ago). Draped in a sheen of sweat, his pale lips brush over her dampened brow, brushing away a dark ringlet of indigo away from the sheer gleam of light glistening within her gaze. His breath his warm across her cheek as his legs carefully fold beneath the girth of his gilded body, sidling up beside her and cradling her heavily breathing body close to his own as the bristling feathers brush across her skin and caress the heaving swell of her abdomen.
A soft, featherlight trail of kisses are pressed gently and tenderly across the nape of her neck, his gaze flickering between her belly, where the intensity of her contractions can be seen constricting around the small and fragile life that lay within. She is gasping and tense with agony, but he is in awe of her, of the unwavering strength drawn up from somewhere deep within – ( I should have known such a pretty face would be the end of me, he had told her once, and he had never been more certain that it was the truth). Quiet, gentle murmurs of encouragement rumble across the surface of her skin, tasting the sweat and sunlight that linger there beneath his tongue.
He had been so young in so many ways when his sons had been birthed from the womb. He was a wanderer, tethered to nowhere and to no one, recklessly following wherever the wayward wind of his soul carried him. He had left her in the autumn (breathy moans and a passionate entangling beneath a canopy of pine and maple), only to find her in the spring – no, she had found him (swollen and glowing and breathless). He had not seen her grow with the life conceived of their coupling, nor had he been able to truly know and appreciate the glee that wracked the entirety of her body each time he brought her a cluster of vibrant evening primrose as he did now - a craving he had searched far and wide across the starlit sky night after night, if only to see her smile.
(Love works in curious ways, she had said to him long ago, and it couldn’t be more true.)
He is stirred by his reverie by the gasp of anguish that emerges from her parted lips, before a small and glistening sac emerges at last. His cheek gently brushes across her shoulder and neck, encouraging Circinae to rise, to be her strength as her instinct urges her closer to her freshly birthed babe. Enthrallment envelopes him, watching each vivid detail as the teeth of his lover and of her lover tug and pull gently at the sheath, exposing the soft and delicate daughter that lay within. A pale cream, not unlike his own had been in his youth (now deep, and dark, gleaming gold with age), with a vivid emerald tuft tracing the subtle slope of her neck and hind end.
He had never seen anything more beautiful – bright, wide-eyed and curious. He had taken the birth of his sons for granted – so foolish, he had been! – but he was older, wiser, and every soft whuff of air emerging from her dampened nostrils, and every flick and flutter of her delicate, youthful features captures his rapidly beating heart, churning it to a frenzy as his hazel gaze locks with her own.
A girl – a daughter, and he cannot imagine his heart feeling any fuller.
The emotion bubbling up from within Circinae’s throat is contagious, and he can feel the heavy pinprick of tears stinging his eyes, glancing to Jah-Lilah – as full of mirth and relief as he, affectionately cleansing the daughter shared by all with tender strokes. He watches her warmly, his heart stirred by the tenderness and adoration in her caress, knowing then and there she would take his heart as her own, too. He is drawn away from the imagery by his beloved, uttering the three words he had held onto for so long; the three words he had promised himself he would say to her – the three words he had thought he would ever truly know as deeply and as wholly as she had taught him to.
His lips press gently to her forehead, brushing away a tangle of her dampened, haphazard tresses, ”I love you,” he murmurs to her, ”I love you and I always have – she is beautiful, Circy,” he whispers to her, tucking gentle nibbling kisses along her cheek, her ear, her jaw - ”Made-From-Love, she was.”
If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all, then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you.
-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
In her daughter she sees the future. Untold stories yet to come, growth and love, anger and disappointment. They scatter across the vision of her mind like wanton stars, each one twinkling in hopes of soon connecting to another so that the constellation of her life might be completed before her death. What should she label this new astrological sign, then? How could she harness such a being with a word, or phrase?
Canaan’s gentle touches of affection draw her out of reverie, turning her eyes to the babe as she wobbles unsteadily with Jah-Lilah’s help. He loves her (she knew, she's always known) but his love is doubled here today. Soon, Circinae knows that the women’s roles will be reversed - she will be the one to watch and wait as her golden pegasus heralds a new child from those bloodred loins. “Perhaps strange, but nothing unmanageable” Is how she pictures it, stepping easily forward to call softly to her daughter. “Nyxa, here.” The emerald mare coos, lowering her own feminine head to reach out for the buttercream filly.
And with that name, the first star of Nyxa’s life burns bright and hot. Her babe’s small head turns unsteadily to look for the source of the sound; she knows it by instinct, all those months wrapped tightly in a watery bed of safety. One bare limb strikes out, followed by the others with a degree of difficulty and then she’s haphazardly stumbling towards the boon of food that waits. Circinae can hardly stifle a warm, radiant smile at the sight of it. The wolf is a mother again, (perhaps for the final time) and she cannot imagine anything more perfect than the feel of that impossibly soft nose against her hip as it dives beneath the shadow of her belly in greedy hunger.
“Clever thing, you got it right off the bat.” The shifter appraises, settling into weary comfort as the sharp sound of suckling fills the air. Nyxa’s brothers had fought against each other for the teat, a sure sign of what was to follow with them, but her daughter is aware of all the finery that she is: lace, water, and beauty. Her survival will depend on others looking out for her (what pain will Winter bring when it freezes those strange wings solid?) and learning the way of the wolf (the first silhouette of a shape within that amniotic sac had been pup.) “Thank you, my Heart.” She says with the rise of her eyes towards Jah-Lilah. “No words could express the depth of my gratitude and feeling…” She thinks, and somehow she knows the lightning mare will understand.
The day will continue, minutes stretching into hours as the three fawn and laugh over the new life. They are memories made and held dear by Circy; memories that will last an eternity and stretch out to the end of time.
