08-07-2019, 07:07 AM
Marni’s nod of confirmation sparks a bright reaction on Lepis’ navy mouth. Her family will be together, she thinks, absent the youngest boys. It is better than most mothers have, Lepis thinks to herself, and she reaches out to touch Marni’s shoulder again affectionately following the congratulations regarding Marni’s birth and the tease that they are ever-growing.
The dun pegasus had always dreamed of a family and children. She’d never been specific about the number though. This pregnancy has been more taxing on her than the others had been – even the triplets’ – yet she is already missing the soft newborn days she and Celina had shared. The girl is nigh on six months old now, off exploring the woods as children do. Lepis smiles fondly at the image, knowing that her husband keeps watch over the forest and by doing so ensures their safety. The thought of him also brings a warm emotion. Even if Lepis had not been especially fond of children, she is fond enough of her her mate that they are all but assured a foal each spring.
“Your father is well,” she replies as she steps away from Marni, moving further in to the forest. Her brow is raised with a clear ‘Are you coming’ etched in the blue cobwebbing, and she smiles invitingly.
This part of the woods where Marni has landed is less thick than the others, with trees spaced widely enough that sunlight filters through the pine limbs overhead. There are other parts that are so dense that there is only shadow, but Lepis does not move toward those first. She wants to show Marni some of the meadows, and the clear streams, and perhaps the northern seashore from where Nerine and Icicle Isle can be seen.
“Your father and I were wondering,” Lepis begins, well aware that she is the one with more interested in the answer, “If you’ve given much thought to marriage. Pteron has made it clear he’s no interest in anything arranged, but you’re almost old enough yourself now.” Lepis has not yet made inquiries, having not truly realized how fast the time had flown, but she is certain that there are suitable colts (or fillies, she is not bothered) in the other lands, and that at least some must be both tolerable and possessed of the proper sort of pedigree. She’s even heard a few of the territories are ruled by bachelor stallions, and Lepis rather likes the idea of Marni having a land of her own.
Not yet though, she thinks. She would like to keep her daughter to herself for a little while before she thinks of giving her away.
Their walking has led them to the nearest meadow. Marni has, by happenstance, chosen a place to land that is not far from the largest meadow in the Taiga. It is the one in which the granite boulder makes a good stage, where meetings of the territory are called. A few acres wide at most, it is ringed by tall redwoods. This time of summer, the green grass has just begun to turn gold, and with the early afternoon sunlight and the dark shadow of the surrounding redwoods it is a rather pretty sight.
“The fog here in the mornings is so thick you can hardly see your own legs,” she says to her pied daughter, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at the meadow. “But by summer’s noon it’s mostly burned off, as you can see.” A shadow crosses the grass and Lepis looks up, but it is only a red-tailed hawk in search of a meal.
@[Marni]
The dun pegasus had always dreamed of a family and children. She’d never been specific about the number though. This pregnancy has been more taxing on her than the others had been – even the triplets’ – yet she is already missing the soft newborn days she and Celina had shared. The girl is nigh on six months old now, off exploring the woods as children do. Lepis smiles fondly at the image, knowing that her husband keeps watch over the forest and by doing so ensures their safety. The thought of him also brings a warm emotion. Even if Lepis had not been especially fond of children, she is fond enough of her her mate that they are all but assured a foal each spring.
“Your father is well,” she replies as she steps away from Marni, moving further in to the forest. Her brow is raised with a clear ‘Are you coming’ etched in the blue cobwebbing, and she smiles invitingly.
This part of the woods where Marni has landed is less thick than the others, with trees spaced widely enough that sunlight filters through the pine limbs overhead. There are other parts that are so dense that there is only shadow, but Lepis does not move toward those first. She wants to show Marni some of the meadows, and the clear streams, and perhaps the northern seashore from where Nerine and Icicle Isle can be seen.
“Your father and I were wondering,” Lepis begins, well aware that she is the one with more interested in the answer, “If you’ve given much thought to marriage. Pteron has made it clear he’s no interest in anything arranged, but you’re almost old enough yourself now.” Lepis has not yet made inquiries, having not truly realized how fast the time had flown, but she is certain that there are suitable colts (or fillies, she is not bothered) in the other lands, and that at least some must be both tolerable and possessed of the proper sort of pedigree. She’s even heard a few of the territories are ruled by bachelor stallions, and Lepis rather likes the idea of Marni having a land of her own.
Not yet though, she thinks. She would like to keep her daughter to herself for a little while before she thinks of giving her away.
Their walking has led them to the nearest meadow. Marni has, by happenstance, chosen a place to land that is not far from the largest meadow in the Taiga. It is the one in which the granite boulder makes a good stage, where meetings of the territory are called. A few acres wide at most, it is ringed by tall redwoods. This time of summer, the green grass has just begun to turn gold, and with the early afternoon sunlight and the dark shadow of the surrounding redwoods it is a rather pretty sight.
“The fog here in the mornings is so thick you can hardly see your own legs,” she says to her pied daughter, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at the meadow. “But by summer’s noon it’s mostly burned off, as you can see.” A shadow crosses the grass and Lepis looks up, but it is only a red-tailed hawk in search of a meal.
@[Marni]
