who cares if hell awaits? Isle, Any

[Maribel]

Who cares if hell awaits? We're having drinks at heaven's gate. MOOOMMMAAAA!" The young mare squeals for Isle. She is frantic and panicking as her limbs pull her through the deep snow drifts and back towards the more fatten parts of the Tundra where the horses resided. Mari is sniffling and hitching her voice as she looks for her mother. Things are different. She feels changed and weird and bloated and...and...fuller. Well ever since she and Romek...you know...did it. Some time has passed and she feels strange but happy...fulfilled? Blue eyes looks for her mother's warm face. It was best to talk to her mother rather than father. He wouldn't understand that Rom and she were in love....Mari didn't want dad going off and killing him. "Mom, where are you?" Her voice is high and growing impatient. Mari notices now as she walks that there was an extra swing to her motions, a little more plumpness to her usually slender frame. How strange. M A R I B E  L

[isle]

out of the woods, out of the dark

She is guarding the cave with another when she hears Maribel’s call echo across the snowy Tundra. There is no hesitation in her face as she turns to her companion with a pointed frown and then moves off and away, disappearing into the empty white. While Isle is loyal, and will be so for as long as Offspring continues to serve the northern kingdom, she is loyal first to her family, to her children. So when her child calls for her in a voice filled with worry, Isle reacts instinctively. She has no doubt that one guard will be enough to protect the cave for a while.

The snow is deep in some places, thick where the wind had filled in the hollow places of the rocky tundra terrain, and she is careful to avoid these places in favor of the frozen dirt and dull, flattened grass paths. It doesn’t take long to find Maribel, her thoughts are as loud as the worry that colors her voice, and when her small palomino shape appears like a smudge of gold not too far ahead, Isle is quick to close the distance between them.

“I’m here, Mari, I’m here.” Her voice is as soft as the sun on their backs when she curls around her daughter, using the velvet of her lips to push the tangles of white forelock from those beautiful blue eyes. “What’s wrong, love?” She tries to keep the worry from tainting her own words, but she is certain some of it slips through when her dark eyes shift to trace the deep lines of worry in the gold girls face. It is entirely reflexive the way her mind delves into Maribel’s, sifting cautiously through strings of barely coherent thoughts until she has found enough to make her step back a little and allow her gaze shift from those bright blue eyes to a golden barrel that was suspiciously swollen for someone who lived on the sparse Tundra diet.

“Oh, Maribel!” She says again, her voice decidedly lighter this time as she steps forward to brush gentle lips along the swell of belly filled with child. Isle turns back quickly, touching her nose to her daughters neck, pressing a smile against the gold dapples. “You’re okay, my little love, you are perfectly alright.” She shifts again to brush some of the thick white mane aside, and she cannot help the way her heart glows like a thousand stars buried in her chest. “You,” and she pauses so that she can sling her head across Maribel’s slender back to draw her close in a quiet embrace, “are going to be a mother, Maribel.”

i am well aware of the shadows in my heart

[Maribel]

Who cares if hell awaits? We're having drinks at heaven's gate. In the nanoseconds it takes for the utter joy of Mari's news to fill the space between them...Isle smiling so softly, embracing the golden girl with an understanding heart, Mari outright starts WAILING. "Bu-bu-bu-but daddy's going to KILL him, m-momma." Fat tears are causing the blue of her eyes to glitter like cut sapphires, damping the coat of her mother as well. Heavy sobs are racking her frame as she snorts and snots and cries because she is truly afraid Offspring is going to be pissed. After the sobbing rattles her, Mari attempts to stop the flow with some rather unladylike snorts and a few sneezes and a whole lot of goofy, protruding lower lips making faces. "I love him, momma. Don't let dad hurt Romek." Her voice comes out tiny and pinched, like a filly, as she musters as much strength as she can with hitching shoulders and a pleading look contorting her features. The same tears start to streak her cheeks in trails of dark gold. If anyone can keep calm her father, Mari knew the quiet sternness of her mother could. Maribel shifts where she stands from hoof to hoof as the idea of motherhood slowly begins to wash over her in heavier and heavier waves. M A R I B E L