Posted on October 30, 2012 at 05:09:37 AM by BADR
 There had been few instances in his life where he had witnessed a healthy and problem free childbirth. Perhaps the one that shone bright in his collective memory, like a beacon in the dark that was naught but a bad omen instead of a good memory, had been the birth of his brother.
The boy had come in the middle of the day, when the noonday sun sat high in the sky, not a single cloud to be seen. Despite the wide open expanse of nothingness that had been spread out between one oasis and the other, the birth of his brother, which occurred under a rather sad and scraggly looking tree with branches jutting out in all sorts of unnatural directions and offered no shade at all to the woman in labour under it’s roof, had all happened in silence. Some hours the pale woman had been missing, before she had returned to the edges of the group, no child in tow and from between her once lush legs a thin stream of blood. While the rest of the herd ignored her as though nothing had happened, going about their days as normally as possible, Badr had lingered at the edges of the herd, dark eyes trailing up the delicate, thin, and dark line of blood that found it’s way from the childbearing machinery of his mother to the ground beneath her. She was dead by morning. The boy she had dropped, imitating her color and looking as though he would have been a snack for the vultures even if he had made it past his first year, had been born still and lifeless- taking with him the life of the flaxen maned stallion’s mother. He did not mourn for her or the dead newly-born, instead he went about his day as though nothing had happened. His people did not have a strong attachment for things. As Vesti’s face begins to appear hollowed out, and if Badr were to look closely he could have sworn he’d seen her sway against the lightest breeze that rarely pushed through the desert, he inches a little closer, eyes rolling down and meeting the face of the chestnut son they had created. “You should rest.” He states flatly, more of an order than a suggestion- a wanton display of the desperation to keep vultures and vermin out of his home and kingdom, and to avoid the plague of death that would follow him everywhere were she to find herself weary and weak. badr The unmoral vigilante. stallion. flaxen liver chestnut. unknown crossbreed. ee aa ff. fifteen & three hands. eight years. russell. |
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Replies:
- a midst a thousand voices - silence echoes - By Vesti & Grai November 6, 2012 at 00:03:11 AM
- x. - By badr November 6, 2012 at 05:57:14 PM
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