haze like a fever
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
Out of all the adventures Wishbone springs after (and all the adventures to come), motherhood might be the one to put her in her rightful place. All things considered, she might be a total fuck-up and end up ruining her child beyond help. Thankfully, such thoughts or doings won’t come until much later down the road, when she’s even old enough to have children.
Wishbone briefly considers that one adventure (the pregnancy, birth, and life of her own offspring) in a fleeting moment when she catches sight of the mare struggling toward the cavern. She’d been exploring through the tunnel system again, weaving between rocky underpasses to discover all their entrances and exits and dead-ends. She already knows the one the mare sneaks into is secluded and ends with narrow headspace, but the swollen mare seemed in distress and Wishbone finds her hooves dancing out of the shadows she’d been in to follow.
The sounds of labor echo through the cave, so the mahogany girl lingers at the mouth of the entrance, standing out of sight from the mother-in-progress. She’s heard the healthy cries of childbirth before, so Wishbone stands with ears pricked in case things turn dangerous. Assuming everything goes as planned, once the cries have dwindled and the sounds of a newborn awaken, the heiress appears at the mouth of the cave with a quiet nicker of a greeting.
“Is everything okay? Are you both safe?”
Wishbone briefly considers that one adventure (the pregnancy, birth, and life of her own offspring) in a fleeting moment when she catches sight of the mare struggling toward the cavern. She’d been exploring through the tunnel system again, weaving between rocky underpasses to discover all their entrances and exits and dead-ends. She already knows the one the mare sneaks into is secluded and ends with narrow headspace, but the swollen mare seemed in distress and Wishbone finds her hooves dancing out of the shadows she’d been in to follow.
The sounds of labor echo through the cave, so the mahogany girl lingers at the mouth of the entrance, standing out of sight from the mother-in-progress. She’s heard the healthy cries of childbirth before, so Wishbone stands with ears pricked in case things turn dangerous. Assuming everything goes as planned, once the cries have dwindled and the sounds of a newborn awaken, the heiress appears at the mouth of the cave with a quiet nicker of a greeting.
“Is everything okay? Are you both safe?”
@[traton]