In the evening, when the sky overhead had turned from a hazy, lazy pale blue to a deep, sleepy purpleish blue, Starspinner stood and stared up at the stars and wondered what it would be like to be able to see everything below you.
"Terrifying, I expect," said Fierce Warrior, who was seated beside her with a cluster of the noisiest and most assorted collection of familiars that Starspinner could recall seeing. They were a hectic bunch, never seeming to sit still; a veritable cacophony of honks, snarls, hisses, yowls and the occasional screech (usually whenever Fierce Warrior himself fell into a hole one of his shuppies had dug for him that he hadn't seen). She was a little jealous of the hoard; in spite of the utter chaos of it all, there was an affection to Fierce's voice whenever he spoke to any of them (except, perhaps, for Breakwater), and he was never alone, always with some sort of shadow.
She'd stumbled across him in her dazed need for reassurance after Broken Egg had told her the news. While Starspinner was perfectly fine with having children (in theory, that was) she was less fine with the idea that she had never had children before and the terror and the unknown were eating away at her, making her jittery and uncomfortable. She'd wandered the fields for a while and had ended up on a semi-secluded beach full of what seemed to be members of a tribe that Starspinner had never heard of - something about crescents. And then she had stumbled across Fierce Warrior, curled up in a clutch of trees off to the side, trying in vain to wrench a coconut from one of the little grasping claws of one of his tegus.
She'd rescued the coconut, they'd cracked it open on a nearby, sun-warmed rock, shared a few bites and a drink of the cool, refreshing water inside, and now were lounging on the beach, letting the sounds of the water murmur around them. Every so often Starspinner could feel the gentle brush of a wave against her hooves.
"I have many children," Fierce Warrior added, as his tail flicked away one of the shuppies as it tried to nip at his leg - the green one with the big head. It sulked away, looking disappointed. "We talked once about what it would have been like to do something different. To be something different. But eventually we came to realize that we wouldn't really be ourselves if we were a star, or a crab, or something that wasn't...well, this."
He gestured at himself with the tip of his spiky tail. Starspinner gave him a weak smile.
"Would you like a blessing?" the stag continued, and his voice was gentle, reassuring; something about him made Starspinner feel at easy, even with his fearsome, intense appearance and the ensuing hoard of creatures. "I'm still new at all of this, but I feel like you could use one. I sense it, rather."
"Yes," said Starspinner gratefully, "I really, really would. If you wouldn't mind, that is."
"It's no trouble." Fierce Warrior was silent for a moment, apparently lost in thought, and then he said, "I bless that your children will be filled with the knowledge that they are cared for and adored. That they will look to their mothers for inspiration and peace, joy and love. That they will follow the paths that are set before them and learn that life can be beautiful but that they will also have the strength to go through any hardships that they may stumble across."
Starspinner found that her eyes were a little wet. She gave a messy nod, her vibrantly colored hair falling into her face, and then said, in a somewhat sniffly voice, "Thank you. I like your shuppies, by the way."
"You're welcome," said Fierce Warrior graciously. "And for the record, I absolutely don't."
"Terrifying, I expect," said Fierce Warrior, who was seated beside her with a cluster of the noisiest and most assorted collection of familiars that Starspinner could recall seeing. They were a hectic bunch, never seeming to sit still; a veritable cacophony of honks, snarls, hisses, yowls and the occasional screech (usually whenever Fierce Warrior himself fell into a hole one of his shuppies had dug for him that he hadn't seen). She was a little jealous of the hoard; in spite of the utter chaos of it all, there was an affection to Fierce's voice whenever he spoke to any of them (except, perhaps, for Breakwater), and he was never alone, always with some sort of shadow.
She'd stumbled across him in her dazed need for reassurance after Broken Egg had told her the news. While Starspinner was perfectly fine with having children (in theory, that was) she was less fine with the idea that she had never had children before and the terror and the unknown were eating away at her, making her jittery and uncomfortable. She'd wandered the fields for a while and had ended up on a semi-secluded beach full of what seemed to be members of a tribe that Starspinner had never heard of - something about crescents. And then she had stumbled across Fierce Warrior, curled up in a clutch of trees off to the side, trying in vain to wrench a coconut from one of the little grasping claws of one of his tegus.
She'd rescued the coconut, they'd cracked it open on a nearby, sun-warmed rock, shared a few bites and a drink of the cool, refreshing water inside, and now were lounging on the beach, letting the sounds of the water murmur around them. Every so often Starspinner could feel the gentle brush of a wave against her hooves.
"I have many children," Fierce Warrior added, as his tail flicked away one of the shuppies as it tried to nip at his leg - the green one with the big head. It sulked away, looking disappointed. "We talked once about what it would have been like to do something different. To be something different. But eventually we came to realize that we wouldn't really be ourselves if we were a star, or a crab, or something that wasn't...well, this."
He gestured at himself with the tip of his spiky tail. Starspinner gave him a weak smile.
"Would you like a blessing?" the stag continued, and his voice was gentle, reassuring; something about him made Starspinner feel at easy, even with his fearsome, intense appearance and the ensuing hoard of creatures. "I'm still new at all of this, but I feel like you could use one. I sense it, rather."
"Yes," said Starspinner gratefully, "I really, really would. If you wouldn't mind, that is."
"It's no trouble." Fierce Warrior was silent for a moment, apparently lost in thought, and then he said, "I bless that your children will be filled with the knowledge that they are cared for and adored. That they will look to their mothers for inspiration and peace, joy and love. That they will follow the paths that are set before them and learn that life can be beautiful but that they will also have the strength to go through any hardships that they may stumble across."
Starspinner found that her eyes were a little wet. She gave a messy nod, her vibrantly colored hair falling into her face, and then said, in a somewhat sniffly voice, "Thank you. I like your shuppies, by the way."
"You're welcome," said Fierce Warrior graciously. "And for the record, I absolutely don't."