Potential frowned as the nervous giggles welled up in his chest and he clamped his mouth shut to keep them at bay. He'd always considered himself very grounded, if not vain, and only prone to--the skin of his mouth flapped open as he sputtered, shrill giggles disturbing the wildlife into quietness.He hung his head, chagrined, and embarrassed. He'd never giggled in his life. He was too pretty for giggles but apparently fatherhood salted composure and burned it to the ground. And wasn't that a strange saying, did salt even burn? He huffed, picking up the myriad of colored bells -- were non-blue bluebells still called bluebells -- Motherfather he was going flighty.
"Do all fathers lose their minds?" he wondered around the flower stalks in his mouth. And really, he wasn't sure what else to call it. Excitement, worry, fear, joy. He felt all the seasons of the year filter through his body in rapid succession and without concern, for one moment it was spring and then winter, followed by fall then spring. And sometimes it was only summer with torrential downpour. He didn't know what he felt anymore. Out of control and sliding further down.
Giveforward had been following the buck since the morning when she'd quite literally been caught up in a tornado of emotions that had knocked her to the ground with their intensity. There was the euphoric feeling that called to her, of course, but it was so intermixed with fear and worry and every other named emotion that she'd felt dizzy. She'd been glad that he seemed very slow in his wandering, almost tedious in his collection of flowers. And she'd gratefully perch until she had to move, until the maelstrom around his knowledge of the children to come was less battering to her mind.
"It's just overwhelming," she replied, as the songbird faded and she appeared before him in her mare form. The reassuring smile, empathetic to the worry of raising young, was promptly swallowed as her mouth wrenched open, "Oh, breathe!" just in time to watch the buck's knees buckle. She winced as he collapsed.
"Sound advice," he choked out as he gasped to refill his lungs. The sudden appearance of a mare had quite spooked him. He'd never seen one before, definitely not like this. It was as if some apparition had just become flesh and bone. Unsettling, to say the least. "Who, what are you?"
Giveforward hopped, head lifting, "Oh, I'm a Legendary. I came to bless your soon to arrive children," she answered giddy. "They call me Giveforward."
Potential stared, astounded. And then climbed to his feet, carefully collecting the flowers he'd assembled, unknowing why. He had an inkling of what to do with them now.
"I'd be most obliged," he began, "although I can only offer these flowers..." As pretty as they were, it seemed to be a paltry return payment.
The mare blinked, "Oh, they're lovely. I, well, I've never gotten a gift from a blessing before..." She didn't notice the stare of the buck as she tried to think of the blessing itself. It took her a moment to stumble on the best phrasing for the moment. With a warm smile, she began to speak, "May you children be healthy and happy, always able to create and appreciate the beautiful things in life."
The buck nodded, feelings no longer churning, and left the mare with the flowers with no more than a soft, "Thank you."
