most round love

*Sparhawk* · 02-10-2021, 10:27 AM

Every day with Poem was perfect. She was carrying the life that they both made within her. If Sparhawk thought that she was a precious jewel before, his love had managed to grow beyond the bounds that he thought possible. He loved watching Poem grow with the life that was inside of her. Every day brought them closer and closer to being part of the world. He was nervous, but oh so terribly excited.

Today, Sparhawk brought Poem something a little special. It was something that he remembered from long ago. His mother had made it for the pregnant slaves. Though the memory wasn't particularly happy, the benefits of the meal were enough to make him live through the past for a moment. The big man had caught a fresh pheasant. He placed a large stone bowl in the coals of the fire, added water, the pheasant and a few vegetables that he was able to find. It took him all day, but he simmered it down until it was a thick, tasty broth. It was lightly spiced and would sit nice in a pregnant stomach. The concoction was full of vitamins and minerals. Things that an expecting mother needed. He'd even been nice enough to pick out the bones.

In a long, arduous process, Sparhawk brought the stone bowl into the den. It was still hot to the touch, but the cold air and snow outside had cooled it enough that it wasn't dangerous. He was slowly pulling a fur across the floor with the bowl on top, doing his best not to splash. There would be a bit of melting snow on the floor now, but oh well. Depositing the bowl before the form of his glowing, pregnant woman, Sparhawk gave her the typical forehead kiss. "Something to keep you warm. A meal from when I was growing up." He then settled down beside her, resting a paw on her stomach for but a moment to tell his children hello.

Sparhawk -- Poem

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