Common

(cw for light mentions of sa)

Vitani stares at him, dumbfounded. She knows his ears work. Why is he refusing to use them?

Tension fills her as he nears; her posture tightens, hind leg lifting again in warning. For all the stallion's golden splendor, he's not very bright - but he is handsome, disarmingly so. Is it the child that makes her heart beat so frantically, or the weight of his shining blue eyes? She freezes, pinned in place by fear and something else, something she can't (And won't) name. By the time he's leaned towards her, whispering into her ear, she's withdrawn inside herself. Cornered as she is, it's the only place she can run to - the only place where she can escape. something something knows the path to it well, having traveled it a scant few months past, when she'd carried his weight upon her back.

He touches her, and the lightness of it breaks the spell, drawing a sharp breath between her lips. This is not the crushing pressure of the last time; it is merely a subtle caress. She's not pinned, yet. The chances might be slim, but she could still get out of this.

"Wow..." Vitani drags the word out, her voice small and velvet-smooth, a viper coiled at the pit of her crimson throat.

A heartbeat later, she strikes.

"You really are stupid," she snaps, kicking out again with her hind hoof and leaping to the side, out of range of a potential retaliatory strike. But the movement costs her, and she stumbles as she lands, her legs buckling while she gasps for air.

"Go," she pants, "away," barely managing to stay on all fours through the sea of stars now dazzling in her field of view. She remains there while she waits for them to clear, forced into place not by him but by her own traitorous, failing body, the beast of her anger thrashing uselessly against the bitter truth of her pregnancy-imposed limitations. By the time Vitani speaks again, no more than half a minute has passed - but those are precious seconds, worth more to her in this moment than anything else in the world, and to her, it feels like an eternity. Like sand falling through an hourglass. Like the tide going out. Like her freedom, drifting ever farther into the distant horizon, no matter how she tried to hold onto it.

"I'm not going to tell you again."