07-02-2015, 03:51 PM
I Come Alive
Beg forgiveness,
With some words that mean nothing,
Illusions like smoke in my breath.
With some words that mean nothing,
Illusions like smoke in my breath.
She follows the scent of blood first. The scent of birth, until she sees the other mares lying in the sand near the water. Branka had been in the cove for some time now, but had avoided all contact with the other mares. She had even been ignoring her son, the wretched weakling he was. It was the smells of life and death that had finally lured her from her hiding place among the dunes.
The scent of stale sweat and fear isn't hard to find and the trail is easy enough to follow. She watches from the hilltop as the little roan goes to the side of the little bay. Pathetic is what they were. Small and trembling creatures next to her strong, golden stature. Branka has yet to actually meet the others, but displays like this make the idea rather unpalatable. The buckskin mare waits several minutes longer before finally descending the hill towards the beach. Heavy hooves sink slightly in the damp sand as she avoids the worst of the waves and soon enough she is standing before the woman with her nose in the water. Branka tips her large, elegant head to the roan lying beside the bay, her belly bulging with new life. Hopefully hers wouldn't be the disappointment Fraktyr had become.
The large, golden mare stands in front of the bay, Killgore she believes the name, and nudges her firmly with her muzzle. Staring Killgore in the eye, Branka speaks in her deep gravelly voice. "You must stand little one. The tide is coming in and you will not do your child justice by drowning in the waves." She is assuming something went wrong at this point, for though she smells the blood and afterbirth she sees no foal anywhere near the pair of mares. Turning to the roan she adds, "You cannot stay here either in your condition" before making Killgore her focus once more.
Branka feels the water rising around her ankles, but does not move nor does she stop looking the mare in the eye. She is offering Killgore the chance to get up on her own now, but if it comes to using force she will. What would Khaos think if she stood by while one of his mares drowned in her sorrows?
The scent of stale sweat and fear isn't hard to find and the trail is easy enough to follow. She watches from the hilltop as the little roan goes to the side of the little bay. Pathetic is what they were. Small and trembling creatures next to her strong, golden stature. Branka has yet to actually meet the others, but displays like this make the idea rather unpalatable. The buckskin mare waits several minutes longer before finally descending the hill towards the beach. Heavy hooves sink slightly in the damp sand as she avoids the worst of the waves and soon enough she is standing before the woman with her nose in the water. Branka tips her large, elegant head to the roan lying beside the bay, her belly bulging with new life. Hopefully hers wouldn't be the disappointment Fraktyr had become.
The large, golden mare stands in front of the bay, Killgore she believes the name, and nudges her firmly with her muzzle. Staring Killgore in the eye, Branka speaks in her deep gravelly voice. "You must stand little one. The tide is coming in and you will not do your child justice by drowning in the waves." She is assuming something went wrong at this point, for though she smells the blood and afterbirth she sees no foal anywhere near the pair of mares. Turning to the roan she adds, "You cannot stay here either in your condition" before making Killgore her focus once more.
Branka feels the water rising around her ankles, but does not move nor does she stop looking the mare in the eye. She is offering Killgore the chance to get up on her own now, but if it comes to using force she will. What would Khaos think if she stood by while one of his mares drowned in her sorrows?
I come alive when I'm falling down
Branka | Warlander | Dapple Buckskin | Mare