[PRP] Slightly Tattered [ Moth Orchid / Bitter End ]

[Jun D]

Lately, Moth Orchid had been feeling rather strange. Not quite unlike herself, but something in addition to it. Of course, she wasn't a fool - the buck had been exceedingly handsome, they'd had an excessively good time. She could well guess what it was that made the air taste just that slightest bit different lately.

Still, it was her first, and it was strange.

Moth Orchid idly picked her way through the marsh today. Snow still carpeted the Swamp, and in places the water was ice, in places slush. In places it was just water, freezing to the bone. She waded through the water, content to freeze a little. She was thinking of plums.  

[Maxx D]

Finding the cold water alternatingly delightful and annoying, she swam rapidly towards the acha's legs, knowing the sense that guided her to the doe. She was thinking about the best entrance she could possibly make when she saw that patch of thin ice, right before those purple hooves. .

With as much dramatic timing as she could muster, she launched herself upwards - the ice shattered, her head hurt (BAD IDEA), she kinda thrashed about a little wildly and managed to slide between her legs. Once she saw a flash of pink, she fixed her caiman jaws on them.

The bite halted her slippery slide. She lay there intently.  

[Jun D]

The world stopped turning.

"What an inconvenient time," she said faintly, then carefully tried to tug her limb out of the caiman's jaws as if she weren't screaming hysterically inside.  

[Maxx D]

Impressed with her quiet terror, Bitter End indulgently gnawed on her cute pink ankle for a little while. The next time she opened her mouth, however, she slipped back into being a mare - and then found that being on her tummy, chewing on a little doe's leg, looked quite wrong.

She straightened into an upright sitting position.

"On the contrary: quite convenient." She said, trying to maintain her dignity. "Are you alright?" She said more like a statement than a question, hoping that her ill-thought out transition would not be mentioned.  

[Jun D]

"I think...I need to sit down."

She plonked her butt into the icy slush, half-heartedly considering standing up in a hurry (it was really very cold), then thought the better of it and remained where she'd landed.  

[Maxx D]

And so there were the two of them regretting End's decision, up to their haunches in icy slush.

"You're carrying." She confirmed, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. "Any thoughts about that?"  

[Jun D]

"Well," she said, blankly, "it's a good thing miscarrying from fright is a myth."

It really was very cold, but her legs were still shaking - not that sitting in ice was actually helping with that.  

[Maxx D]

"Okay," Bitter End said, calmly and pretending her butt was not very cold, "it's good they're still there. May they be as resilient as yourself. Let me walk you to solid ground." Maybe she should find another tactic with pregnant does and keep the biting for the boys. Sturdily and not at all too quickly, she got up, and offered a shoulder to lean on.  

[Jun D]

"Oh. Thank you," she rose unsteadily to her hooves and slumped against the proferred shoulder, limbs awry, but not without a certain sharpness in her eyes that expressed something along the lines of, Was that a blessing?

And possibly, What sort of standards are there for Legendaries these days?