Post by Ahiga on Dec 19, 2009 21:26:48 GMT -5
In this scene, Aspen has her fawns! This is a sole rp.
Setting: Cluster of Fir Trees
It is the middle of the night. The time of night where predators prowl and herd animals stick closely together for comfort. Strength in numbers and all that. Danger lurks in every inky black shadow, but the sky above makes a mockery of the treacherous feel that night tends to bring to the heart. Stars dance and glitter, twinkling merrily within the backdrop of blue-black. A half moon shines a silver light upon the wisps of clouds near it, causing them to appear ghostlike as they crawl by. A single star falls, streaking palely across the sky and beyond the horizon to the unknown world that lies beyond it.
Few could call this particular night anything but picturesque and tranquil, but for at least one forest dwelling creature, the wonders of the star-studded night are disregarded. A lone deer has struck out on her own, having left the aforementioned safety of the haphazard herd she’d somehow become a part of. Aspen walks purposefully, though without destination, hooves moving quietly upon the vegetation of grass and roots. Ears are pricked forward and eyes are wide, yet somehow calm, as they shift to and fro, drifting from shadow to shadow. Perhaps Fate is on her side, as the reflective eyes of wolves are nowhere to be seen as she follows some unseen path, lured by the light of the moon through areas of the forest she’s travelled only a few times before, if at all.
And it’s true. The scent of the lead buck grows distant now, which causes her to pause. This is unfamiliar territory, or at least territory that has not been claimed by deer. Her head tilts up to gaze at the congregation of conelike trees that grow, and she inhales a deep breath of their strong scent. Strong? Almost overpowering, though it causes a small smile to touch her muzzle. She’s found her place.
Though this doesn’t mean that some investigating isn’t in order! The doe takes quite some time walking around, stopping to sniff and nibble at things, taking note of where things are and tasting the stale scents of creatures who have passed through long ago. None seem more fresh than her own, which is another calming fact that has her exhaling a slow breath, but it’s a breath that’s soon countered by a sharp inhale and a pained wince. A cry is bitten back and she lowers her head, eyes vaguely squinting shut. It’s a moment, but the pain slowly ebbs away, though Aspen is still left somewhat breathless as a stabbing feeling of fear clutches her heart. What was she thinking, leaving the others? Leaving Chanson? What if she needs something? What if a predator comes? Even Roscoe could prove to be useful if the latter were to happen, though the thought of the buck causes her to cringe, then scowl.
“No,” she says aloud, her voice stronger than even she expected it to sound. She will not rely on that big-headed jerk of a pompous male. She does not need him. This is something she can and will do on her own. With her newly found resolve, Aspen makes her way within the cluster of trees and settles down on the bed of fallen needles. She knows the time is now. She knew it before the sun set hours upon hours ago, and now it’s here with the only one around to rely on being herself. And she’s ready.
Another moment of pain consumes her. The first of many through her long labor.
Her first fawn is born male. His arrival comes merely an hour after her first labor pain. The birth is a quiet one, with no cheer or fanfare other than the whispered applause of the swaying branches above. The instinct to clean him is an easy one follow, and Aspen goes about the task of licking away the mess of birth from his spotted coat. All the while, she observes him, warily looking for signs of defect or illness. Roscoe’s woeful words regarding his own son seems to have not been forgotten, and she prays that whatever fate became of that fawn does not fall upon hers as well. But from what she can see, the brown and spotted newborn is all that he should be. Alive. She smiles to herself once the wriggly thing is nearly dry, and she positions herself in such a way to ease the task of feeding.
But she’s not done. The pain has subsided for a time, though it returns in full force, marking the arrival of yet another young fawn. This one is female. Slick, gooey, and already trying her best to stand. But such wobbly legs are useless to her now, and she tumbles onto her side with hooves splayed. Giggling tiredly, Aspen cleans the second off too, though remains wary for any signs of a third. But there are no more to come (which she has no problems with!) and after some minutes, the newest whitetails of the forest settle in to feed from their mother. Aspen exhales a slow and deep sigh, eyes briefly closing. That was no walk in the park! But despite the painful and long experience, she is happy. Feeling suddenly fulfilled, she leans in to lick the first born male. “Your name will be Ridge,” she whispers fondly, “for ridges are long and everlasting, as is my love for you. They are strong and withstanding, as you will be.” She nuzzles his back before doing the same to the female. She’s quiet for a time, content to nuzzle her and inhale her new scent.
It’s with her exhale that her head rises and eyes lift to peer up between the pines of the trees and out to the horizon. Slowly, she begins to smile, nodding to herself as if coming to a decision. “You, my daughter, will be named Dawn,” she muses, eyes still set upon the pale gray color that now tints the sky. “You have come with the new day, and you mark a new beginning for me. Like the dawn of a new day, I’ve no idea what lies ahead for you, but like the mysteries of the newest morning, I look forward to learning all about it. And you.” With her children nestled closely, and now named, Aspen lays her head down to rest in her makeshift densite, contentment dominating her expression.
The end! XD Ridge is a PC, though Dawn for now is an NPC fawn. If anyone would like to play her, please poke me! =D
Setting: Cluster of Fir Trees
It is the middle of the night. The time of night where predators prowl and herd animals stick closely together for comfort. Strength in numbers and all that. Danger lurks in every inky black shadow, but the sky above makes a mockery of the treacherous feel that night tends to bring to the heart. Stars dance and glitter, twinkling merrily within the backdrop of blue-black. A half moon shines a silver light upon the wisps of clouds near it, causing them to appear ghostlike as they crawl by. A single star falls, streaking palely across the sky and beyond the horizon to the unknown world that lies beyond it.
Few could call this particular night anything but picturesque and tranquil, but for at least one forest dwelling creature, the wonders of the star-studded night are disregarded. A lone deer has struck out on her own, having left the aforementioned safety of the haphazard herd she’d somehow become a part of. Aspen walks purposefully, though without destination, hooves moving quietly upon the vegetation of grass and roots. Ears are pricked forward and eyes are wide, yet somehow calm, as they shift to and fro, drifting from shadow to shadow. Perhaps Fate is on her side, as the reflective eyes of wolves are nowhere to be seen as she follows some unseen path, lured by the light of the moon through areas of the forest she’s travelled only a few times before, if at all.
And it’s true. The scent of the lead buck grows distant now, which causes her to pause. This is unfamiliar territory, or at least territory that has not been claimed by deer. Her head tilts up to gaze at the congregation of conelike trees that grow, and she inhales a deep breath of their strong scent. Strong? Almost overpowering, though it causes a small smile to touch her muzzle. She’s found her place.
Though this doesn’t mean that some investigating isn’t in order! The doe takes quite some time walking around, stopping to sniff and nibble at things, taking note of where things are and tasting the stale scents of creatures who have passed through long ago. None seem more fresh than her own, which is another calming fact that has her exhaling a slow breath, but it’s a breath that’s soon countered by a sharp inhale and a pained wince. A cry is bitten back and she lowers her head, eyes vaguely squinting shut. It’s a moment, but the pain slowly ebbs away, though Aspen is still left somewhat breathless as a stabbing feeling of fear clutches her heart. What was she thinking, leaving the others? Leaving Chanson? What if she needs something? What if a predator comes? Even Roscoe could prove to be useful if the latter were to happen, though the thought of the buck causes her to cringe, then scowl.
“No,” she says aloud, her voice stronger than even she expected it to sound. She will not rely on that big-headed jerk of a pompous male. She does not need him. This is something she can and will do on her own. With her newly found resolve, Aspen makes her way within the cluster of trees and settles down on the bed of fallen needles. She knows the time is now. She knew it before the sun set hours upon hours ago, and now it’s here with the only one around to rely on being herself. And she’s ready.
Another moment of pain consumes her. The first of many through her long labor.
Her first fawn is born male. His arrival comes merely an hour after her first labor pain. The birth is a quiet one, with no cheer or fanfare other than the whispered applause of the swaying branches above. The instinct to clean him is an easy one follow, and Aspen goes about the task of licking away the mess of birth from his spotted coat. All the while, she observes him, warily looking for signs of defect or illness. Roscoe’s woeful words regarding his own son seems to have not been forgotten, and she prays that whatever fate became of that fawn does not fall upon hers as well. But from what she can see, the brown and spotted newborn is all that he should be. Alive. She smiles to herself once the wriggly thing is nearly dry, and she positions herself in such a way to ease the task of feeding.
But she’s not done. The pain has subsided for a time, though it returns in full force, marking the arrival of yet another young fawn. This one is female. Slick, gooey, and already trying her best to stand. But such wobbly legs are useless to her now, and she tumbles onto her side with hooves splayed. Giggling tiredly, Aspen cleans the second off too, though remains wary for any signs of a third. But there are no more to come (which she has no problems with!) and after some minutes, the newest whitetails of the forest settle in to feed from their mother. Aspen exhales a slow and deep sigh, eyes briefly closing. That was no walk in the park! But despite the painful and long experience, she is happy. Feeling suddenly fulfilled, she leans in to lick the first born male. “Your name will be Ridge,” she whispers fondly, “for ridges are long and everlasting, as is my love for you. They are strong and withstanding, as you will be.” She nuzzles his back before doing the same to the female. She’s quiet for a time, content to nuzzle her and inhale her new scent.
It’s with her exhale that her head rises and eyes lift to peer up between the pines of the trees and out to the horizon. Slowly, she begins to smile, nodding to herself as if coming to a decision. “You, my daughter, will be named Dawn,” she muses, eyes still set upon the pale gray color that now tints the sky. “You have come with the new day, and you mark a new beginning for me. Like the dawn of a new day, I’ve no idea what lies ahead for you, but like the mysteries of the newest morning, I look forward to learning all about it. And you.” With her children nestled closely, and now named, Aspen lays her head down to rest in her makeshift densite, contentment dominating her expression.
The end! XD Ridge is a PC, though Dawn for now is an NPC fawn. If anyone would like to play her, please poke me! =D