Post by yaruka on Sept 16, 2008 0:42:11 GMT
Kala did not go far, but far enough, from the herd to give birth. For her first foal she wanted to be sure that she could get back to the security of other horses soon after the foal was born. After all, she wasn't at all sure what being a mother entailed yet. She lay down heavily beneath a low overhanging branch, already beginning to bud with the life that symbolized spring. She gazed at the sky as she lay, sides heaving, and was troubled to see that a storm seemed to be coming this way. She had a feeling that her foal would be born before it arrived, but surely it was too late in the year for snow? She trembled in the wake of another contraction, she had never felt so alone in her life.
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Kala gazed in wonder at the black bundle lying at her feet, barely visible in the night, perfectly formed with the ridiculously large star splashed across his forehead. She nickered adoringly at the little colt, and nudged him gently to encourage him to stand. She herself struggled to her feet, then nosed the little foal, licking him to get his blood circulating, somehow knowing what to do from the dim memories that stirred in her mind of her own birth. The foal finally scrambled to its feet, teetering on its stilt-legs and swaying in the restless breeze. The moon had just risen to its peak when the colt took his first suckle of her life giving milk. Kala nuzzled him affectionately, finally feeling as though something in her life was whole again. She felt love as she had never before, caring for this son of hers. He was his father in miniature too, and she hoped that he would grow up to be as strong and as noble as his sire, Tingara. And if she needed a sign to tell her that she belonged to Tingara then surely this was it? The birth of her perfect, night-coloured colt. She could not have given Tingara a better likeness in his son.
"Biangri" she whispered, and the sound of her voice carried towards the herd on the night breeze. "I shall call you Biangri for it means night, and you are the night itself, only alive and in the flesh and even more precious."
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Kala gazed in wonder at the black bundle lying at her feet, barely visible in the night, perfectly formed with the ridiculously large star splashed across his forehead. She nickered adoringly at the little colt, and nudged him gently to encourage him to stand. She herself struggled to her feet, then nosed the little foal, licking him to get his blood circulating, somehow knowing what to do from the dim memories that stirred in her mind of her own birth. The foal finally scrambled to its feet, teetering on its stilt-legs and swaying in the restless breeze. The moon had just risen to its peak when the colt took his first suckle of her life giving milk. Kala nuzzled him affectionately, finally feeling as though something in her life was whole again. She felt love as she had never before, caring for this son of hers. He was his father in miniature too, and she hoped that he would grow up to be as strong and as noble as his sire, Tingara. And if she needed a sign to tell her that she belonged to Tingara then surely this was it? The birth of her perfect, night-coloured colt. She could not have given Tingara a better likeness in his son.
"Biangri" she whispered, and the sound of her voice carried towards the herd on the night breeze. "I shall call you Biangri for it means night, and you are the night itself, only alive and in the flesh and even more precious."