08-03-2015, 04:32 AM
Every sinew aches and stretches in places I never knew were quite possible. I had always thought the miraculous sight of birth was quite horrific. Back when I watched my sister born, it had been an electric stare, never leaving. I had vowed then to never met such a thing happen. Well, I had vowed many things but that was why I never did walk the path of the blessed. An angel's physique but a demoness inside, nothing saintly there.
I touch his neck, Killdare, his soft skin a warmth palpable, muscle and strength. And beautiful familiarity. I nip at his withers gently, enticingly almost. Look, look at the child. His dark points, his shimmery glow in the sun. You made him, we made him. As he looks upon the silver colt, I notice the change. My ears drop momentarily. A touch of embarrassment, of scorn lining my tired features.
'He is strong, like his father. An apt name.' my blue eyes were clear marbles as they gaze back at his missy green ones. A purposeful snort. I watch him as he inclined with a small tantrum. My knotted tail snapped at my loins, an ear lacing back at my crown. I gave him a nip to his shoulder, neither aggressive nor pushover. 'I carried him, I weighed the burden and you don't want to call him that? Then tell me, dearest, what would you have him called?' I say, my tone weary, lost against dry lips. I was spent, exhausted and for now did not want to argue. So I dipped my nose to the left of me and nudged the silver buckskin boy.
'I shall call him Vercingetorix. Killdare, dear, call him what you will. But he is ours, and he is delightful.' even though disappointment mars my face, I still try and smile with a graceful twist. He is Brutish and headstrong but yet, those many reasons built up my adoration for the earthern knight. 'At least that is something we can agree upon?' sapphire gems watched him, carefully.
I touch his neck, Killdare, his soft skin a warmth palpable, muscle and strength. And beautiful familiarity. I nip at his withers gently, enticingly almost. Look, look at the child. His dark points, his shimmery glow in the sun. You made him, we made him. As he looks upon the silver colt, I notice the change. My ears drop momentarily. A touch of embarrassment, of scorn lining my tired features.
'He is strong, like his father. An apt name.' my blue eyes were clear marbles as they gaze back at his missy green ones. A purposeful snort. I watch him as he inclined with a small tantrum. My knotted tail snapped at my loins, an ear lacing back at my crown. I gave him a nip to his shoulder, neither aggressive nor pushover. 'I carried him, I weighed the burden and you don't want to call him that? Then tell me, dearest, what would you have him called?' I say, my tone weary, lost against dry lips. I was spent, exhausted and for now did not want to argue. So I dipped my nose to the left of me and nudged the silver buckskin boy.
'I shall call him Vercingetorix. Killdare, dear, call him what you will. But he is ours, and he is delightful.' even though disappointment mars my face, I still try and smile with a graceful twist. He is Brutish and headstrong but yet, those many reasons built up my adoration for the earthern knight. 'At least that is something we can agree upon?' sapphire gems watched him, carefully.