Multi-tasking was not something that came naturally to the eagle, so as he tended to and fussed tentatively about the scrawny, lanky, putrid babe by his hooves, the heaving mass of mare to his left seemed for the moment to evaporate from awareness; perhaps for the better, given the snarling, motherly instinct pinching an otherwise exhausted expression. Though awkwardly uncertain, Noah meant well. The babe seemed to soothe as he touched her, worked with (seemingly) impossible gentleness to smooth roughed hair upon neck and shoulder. It fed new confidence through his rattled mind and compelled him to strive further, caressing the coldness of her coat to restore warmth through dryness; it felt surprisingly easy, natural. Soon too, his beloved dove rose along side and brief pause was taken to inspect her also wetted hide, and to nuzzle with more easily found affection, the bared length of her neck. Blunt, careful ivories ghosted down across the hump of shoulder before arriving at the sullied spread of (longer), pasty feather. Though the babe stirred below, whimpering pathetically for reconnection and physical touch, the stallion couldn’t help but prioritise his lover - she after all, was whom the very universe revolved around. When the last feather was safely set straight among stained sisters, Noah moved once more to drink in that strange, stupendous flavour of new life. Nora had resumed the mission to cleanse away the muck (her method seemed effortless in comparison), and he in turn, was more than willing to wait by and watch, take up the position of guardian - which conveniently filled his own need for validation. All at once, as though the revelation of fatherhood had at last dawned upon him, the eagle’s breast pigeoned with just born pride. [I'm sorry, I fizzled] |
