The Lost Islands
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Making love to a m e m o r y [Birth]
Posted on September 3, 2019 at 06:47:08 PM by Macabre




"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."

The boy arrived in a hurry. One second, Macabre was staring absentmindedly out against the ocean, remembering a time when she was so fearful of the vast, enveloping sea. And the next, the onset of contractions made her wince in pain.

The mare was no newcomer to labor. This foal would be her third. The last two hadn't been easy, but this one, almost felt like a dream. Maybe that was because the flaxen chestnut mare had been so distracted. Both by her worry for Wasp and what remained of the Peak she left behind, and her partners on this aimless journey, Clarity and Cherish. Macabre felt indebted to care for them, and as such, responsible for their well being. It was her who ripped them from the Lagoon after all, and dragged them along from island to island.

Her nostrils flared deeply, the air rushing in and out, as she tried to steady herself through the early pain. She knew this was only the beginning. With time, the contractions would grow more frequent, their pangs stabbing her with staccato-like cuts until the real work began.

She winced again, dropping he head to her knees before giving the ocean one last longing glare, and trotting off into the woods. When she emerged the next day, a healthy bay tobiano colt stood at her side.

She marveled at him nearly every second, amazed that such a perfect little colt had come from her and Ruger. He was bright, alert, healthy and breathing. But she feared at any minute, that could change. So she hovered instinctively, pinning her ears when any of Persephone's herd came too close. She was determined to give this one a fighting chance.




"Hear then how Love paid homeage to this lady;
I saw him weeping there in human form,
observing the stilled image of her grace;
and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven,
where that sweet soul already had its home,
which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh."

Macabre | 12 | Mare | Mustang X Morgan | 14.2 HH | flaxen chestnut | © Vinyl




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