Change: the norm
Written by Septia.
It began with a thud, a remote -Clrck- repeating in irregular intervals. A sound her mind picked up on long before she could, soAas her senses awakened to properly hear the noise, the thump was already a familiarity to the mare
“W-w.. whoou…,” lulled out as a grunt over the unicorn's lips, in tune with the landscape of hue; cobalt and ash blurred together with shades of black smog wandering through. Her senses of body and mind mimicked the minute and second handles of a clock, one lagging behind the other, but neither had reached a rhythm. Her eyes honed in on her surrounding's colours, interrupted by a gradient of dusk expanding below.
“Just in time,” words, spun with superiority, emerged from behind. A thud rung out behind her, followed by a hoof smacking into the back of her head, as the figure used her for a stepping stool on its way down, “how generous of you to not impede my schedule more than is necessary, Rarity.”
“Aooow, Chrysalis, never have I been a prisoner to someone lacking even a pinch of common decen-…,” Rarity interrupted herself, time and again reaching her hoof to rub the sore spot, each time met with a mere twitch in her hoof. Each blink cleaned her eyes, polishing her vision to see through the blur, making out grey stalagmites and light fixtures of phosphorus green, until the hall of the changeling hive sprawled out before her, rock formations jagged to teeth, bulbs of bioluminescence and changeling crawling through halls and burrows. Rarity herself was hung up on a wall below an alcove, overlooking a hallway, and as soon as she became aware of the moss tinted mucus plastering her hooves and back to the wall – like green slime consuming her white coat – she regretted her desire to uncover it.
“Oojuck, euw euw euw, do you critters have a vendetta on ropes? Chains? Why do you have to stoop so low as to resort to utilising your own… I don't even know what this is, but it is so slimy and unhygeniehehec.”
“Mwhhmha,” Chrysalis snickered, delighted in the diva's disturbance, descending into distress, “I'd advise you to listen instead of cracking jokes, it is a, rarity, for me to give a single subject my undiluted attention.” She spoke with the sharp melody of a snake playing the violin, rattling her tongue in a hiss that nearby changelings stemmed up to with their buzzing.
“Uurcl,” Rarity grunted as she – for the moment – gave up on tearing through the green sludge, “and I would in turn advise you, my dear, to unhoof me this instance before my friends arrive.”
Chrysalis, showcasing her perpetual smirk, brushed down the whole length of Rarity's leg as she spoke. “Such naiveté, to be expected from the will of a single minder.” Her hoof pinned rarity in place, smothering the mare's shivers and wriggles. “To your friends’ knowledge you are right where you should be, it is remarkable what quality of disguise my scout subjects can manage with a bit of espionage.”
At this point, Chrysalis' hoof was at Rarity's knee, each moment her heart drummed heftier in her chest, as realisation sunk in.
“Can you fathom the humiliation of suffering defeat the hooves of cattle? How many days of sleep you robbed from me? How you cast my colony to scavenge for scraps of sustenance?” Chrysalis reached the gunk holding Rarity's hoof in place. “But, revenge is a taboo, dear subject…,” she peered at the frowning mare, distracting Rarity from the brush of motion through the goo, “and what is more delicious than letting you experience matters from our point of view?”
As Rarity took to respond she screeched, a sense of slime sloughing up her leg.
“Waaaaoo, what is that thing, what is it doing? G-get it away from me,” Rarity wallowed, witnessing a larva with a head of onyx carapace, crawling up her leg. Its height surpassed that of the mare's horn, and Rarity could feel every streak of slime its segmented body tugged smeared out, as the grub migrated upwards.
“There we are little one, march, march into your new mommy. Shame on you, my subject,” Chrysalis turned her focus back on the fidgeting fashionista, “what kind of manners is that to address your future younglings?” every word from the queen's mouth came as a hiss of delight, accompanied by the -Slslfhfgt- of the larva's crawl.
“Y-yo… Es spreading its mucus all over me. W-why do you keep calling me subje-.. t-this, n-no this isn't happening. Twilight will not let this happen, and you are going to drop me off in time for tea at my boutique this instance.” -Shhrrlgft- -Gllrsth- Phlegm ground down as she twisted her hooves and the grub slithered up her thigh.
“What fruitless efforts, shallow fantasies brought upon by that pesky willpower of yours,” Chrysalis soared up, cupping rarity's cheek, “all which we have to erase, should you have any hope of contributing to the hive.”
“B-beg your pardon?”
“Request dismissed,” Chrysalis announced and smacked her free hoof over Rarity's cheek -Swwtch-, grasping her again, to be met with a gaze in flames.
“That's it, I am no longer asking, you are putting me down now before I turn your hive into a dumpster, which wouldn't even be that hard considering the decor.” Her shouts drizzled spittle over thequeen, leaving drops of drool dew in the cyan river of a mane.
“All these emotions, unfettered, useless.”
Rarity steamed with rage, on the verge of barking out her works through clasped teeth. “Did you get some of your slime stuck in your ears? Because I believe I already made it clear that I will never join y-uuullkr.” Rarity froze, a tremor bolting through her spine. -Spslltsh- The Larva had reached her marehood, prodding its blank temple over the pursed lips.
“Spare me your breath, save it for yourself, it is the last you will get,” being met by confusion, Chrysalis turned, breathing in as her little grub squished itself against the pit of the exposed crotch. “Why would we ally ourselves with cattle? Cattle are dim-witted.”
-Spltc- “Hnnyaggaa,” Rarity squealed after the grub batted its head to her marehood, crawling and curling up over her lap.
“Stale”
-Psllsth- “Gyraang.”
“High in maintenance.”
-Plltwwp- “Gyraa.”
“And plagued by will,” Chrysalis punctuated with a gesture, back to the twitching Rarity. “But, cattle are sturdy and bloated with love,” she caressed the larva rubbing against the veils of flesh, “aspects needed to grow and feed a new generation of young, as a broodmare of the colony.”
Rarity's forehead laid soaked in sweat, thighs twitching in attempts to clench her most sacred spot shut, rattling in the glue holding her in place.
“C-chrysalis L-let’s not make rash decisions, p-perhaps we-nnnfg, can figure out a wmng, way to l-live in harmony? There must be some way for us to-uullgh, ahagh… rnnrg…”
-Grlltsccht- Rarity flinched, her breath erratic, down below she saw Chrysalis' hoof under the grub, giving it the shove required for the maggot to pierce through her, wedging itself past the pursed walls of flesh, lubricating her honeypot with a mixture of its own and her fluids, grinding inside.
“Soon enough you will be rid of those selfish thoughts and desires. But that will not be all. You, my diamond in the rough, will be but a seed, a pod to plant and let sprout in your kingdom,” she posed in a grand gesture, a flock of Changelings following the motion of her hoof like a wave of living carapace, “from there, you will grow, and seek my tendrils in the sinew of your own, an infection, an epidemic…” She went quiet, looking down, slowly swaying her head upwards, expression contorted in a broad grin of sadistic entitlement. “And you, little diamond seed, will be honoured to spread it, relishing every moment.”
Snickering developed into chuckles, and grew to a victorious cackle, in which the queen gave a glare to the pony who fidgeted as the grub burrowed into her birth canal. “Until then, I will let you two get acquainted,” then she leaned in to the grub, “teach her some etiquette, would you? Such behaviour does not benefit the hive.” With that, she soared off, a regiment of changelings buzzing at her tail.
“Ch-chrysalis, t-this isn't f-funny Chrysalis, where are you going, d-don't leave me here wihgnggfh…”
-Spllsthch- -Twplsh- Her lower abdomen distended, warped around the silhouette worming its way through her crotch, the lum swaying to and fro like the tail of an exciting dog displacing her organs in its rampart through her, delivering ache through every strained musculature It bent to the grub's girth. Rarity paralyzed to do nothing but witness her midsection mould like clay around the protrusion of the parasite, and feel her flower undulate with strain, clutching the width of the filthy maggot. In the stress she exuded heat, in the cooled caverns of the hive she felt sweat and gunk coagulate to cold blotches over her heat pricked coat
“Th-this is unbearable, c-can't you j-just wriggle your wa-way back out, no? Y-you are really hurting-nng…”
-Slsltch- Her stomach swelled around the outlines of her occupant. Tension easing from her marehood as it glid over every chubby segment of the larva – despite each stretch filling her with the sense of fitting on a dress two sizes too small – only for the ache to percolate at her middle, belly billowing outward with her skin contorting in flabs matching the sections of the invader's form. -Splsltch- -Pllssh- A splatter of gunk fluttered from her crotch, as the lips engulfed the maggot, sealing itself shut in its wake, her abdomen buckling, bending, distorting by the grub worming up to the wall of her cervix.
“P-please I-ll do anything, I-i can get you a proper mother, provide all manner of cute holed outfits a-and my friend is great at partie-. P-please,” Rarity pleaded as she felt the prods turning into rams, her vagina already contorted to a highway, and now her cervix followed suit, pried apart by the horn and squirms of the grub seeking its way through her, following instinct, the mentality imposed on it by the hive mind's orders, primal urges, to make itself a mother.
~ 1 ~
-Bsghhrslp- -Ghhsrlsti- The maggot slithered into her uterus, barging through the sensitive membranes and leaving Rarity fluctuating between grimaces.
“P-please. Dear, I am, I am n-no-not ready for this responsibility of a child!”
-Cjhnnkk- Fangs sunk into her uterus, burrowing deep trenches in her meat, it took several bites for the tiny jaws to hook itself into the convulsing flesh, gnawing her baby bag raw.
The pain was fleeting, she had just clenched her teeth when she realised it was no longer present. She knew it was there, buried in her depths, a wiggle of a quill balancing against her. Soon, it was a pen tip, and now just a crayon. A crayon bobbing about her insides, charming if not for the circumstances.
“Phaa, ok, phoo, get it together Rarity, you have gotten out of worse pits than this, that thing is a newborn, it will tucker itself out, w-won't you, dear?”
-Bhbllwlsh- Responded the congested stomach with a bounce.
“Good, then I'll tear myself off the wall, sneak out and ask twilight what to do with an adorable little creep lodged in my… privates. Are we clear?”
-Bwllsgh-.
“Splendid, I'll-… Mngf….” the mare humped forwards, her bottom suffering such an itch.
She kept worming and squirming against the wall, observed by Changelings passing through the hall. In her core laid toxins and chemical compounds, sprouting roots that punctures her bloodstream. The compounds steamed in her veins, picked up among the cell waste, unregistered by her immune system, pumped to her heart with the aid of her frantic breath shifting her thorax. From there, it migrated with the oxygenised blood, shipped to every corner of her body.
“Stop, stop… s-so heavy,” Rarity pleaded, suspended from the wall for well over an hour, the extra luggage in her core weighing her down, her body an arch – starting from her back hooves, curving all the way to her front.
“J-just g-give a moment dear.”
Her mumbles went unnoticed by the changelings, by the parasite, and herself. During this time, a hoofful of strands of her coat had departed, leaving pigments of charcoal in its wake on her skin. -Bllshhgs- Over the dome which crowned her gut, the mare's coat had become matte, splotches of humidity turning her coat sleek like wax, and with some time, it begun to mould like it too
Damp spots on her abdomen melded coat and flesh together, marbled with the sheen of drenched granite. What first was mere stains of a spilt beverage developed, flourished, and matted surrounding coat to envelop it in the dark sheen, growing like the pattern of a jaguar, grey over white.
Rarity rested with her head hung over her gut, yammering under her breath as she watched her skin meld. The feeling of the crayon had subsided, but it was still there. She knew her guest had their fangs lodged deep, she just couldn't feel them. If she couldn't feel them, were they even there? The pain followed suit, vanishing while still pounding beneath the surface, each convulsion brandishing a sense of comfort, brewing tinges of pleasure. It was not right. -Bhhrgllsh- Her stomach billowed outwards, expanding around a bump of motion, bending around a patch of developed, grey carapace. Her gut was stretched half a hoof-length, but she didn't react. That had to have hurt.
“S-surely, it hurt,” the unicorn mumbled, staring with her pupils enlarged to blot out her eye whites, black islands in azure lakes.
“It hurts, so much.” she continued, but it was just words… everything was just words without context, lacking meaning. Yarn and needle without fabric, embroidery stitched in thin air, without a canvas. Still, small vibrations of joy radiated from her middle. It should be pain, she was in pain.
“It hurts, hurts, it… hurts so….” Through the hallway echoed Rarity's chant, dampened by exhaustion as the mare shed all the more strands of her white coat.
~ 2 ~
Mounds of hair, gathered in white mountains, lay beneath the living wall ornament. Broad patches lacking her alabaster coat riddled her frame, as if grass had been cut, and in its place loaded gravel. -Bwhgsng- Her stomach bobbed, it laid clean shaved, murky ashen carapace enveloping her abdomen, with the patches of fur still clutching to her chest, it looked like a wrecking ball, smashing through from her back.
“H-h-hur…ts…” she whispered, vines of drool drooping from her maw, webbing her lips together with the gut. Streaks of spittle polished the bulge, and in its reflection entered a hue of cyan.
“I will admit it, this is a surprise,” Chrysalis announced, Rarity's head flicking up for a moment to stare at her, expression empty, lips trembling with the flood of saliva held in her jaws.
“H-hurts.”
“It takes at least a day for even my best grubs to get this far, unassisted,” Chrysalis continued, brushing away some leftover hair and slobber form Rarity's gut, “they can only convert this much as once if, they had been given a healthy dose of… but that wouldn't make sense,” she turned away, concealing a grin, “from where would they get love? We are far from our reservoirs, and my subjects can barely feed themselves…”
Rarity simply stared, eyelids struggling to close, and moisturise the dry film.
“Unless, you,” Chrysalis said, turning with each word, “loved it.”
What did she say, that word? Rarity couldn't distinguish most of her surroundings, but she latched onto that phrase. Unlike the yammering, unlike the bumping in her belly, unlike the trickling over her back and flacking of her coat… this word had context, it had a canvas…. it meant something.
“L-lov-…” Rarity sampled the word, a wave of brightness washing in through her lips, shaking down her gullet and pumping out through her arteries, it was real.
“Even its name shook the dead in their graves,” Chrysalis noted, and leaned in, a cent away from Rarity's muzzle. “Do you still know what it means, that little word?”
The mare remained motionless, but her ears twitched.
“Dedication, effort, care, endurance, cooperation… The elements of love, the elements of the hive.”
Rarity listened, each word made her heart beat, made her feel, they were also real.
“Dedic.. ef-effort, c-care, endur… cooper-oper…”
“Correct, in the hive we cooperate, we share endurance, we care for one another instead of ourselves, with effort we craft a world to share,” Chrysalis paused, waiting until Rarity tilted her head up, “if we dedicate ourselves to the hive, that is.”
“The… hive,” Rarity parroted, there was something so familiar, so warm, how long was it since she felt warmth? Fragments of her mind called, echoes of ache and strain, of how she had been treated. But through that veil she felt the throbs and vibrations from her stomach… were these ripples not uncanny, similar to the sensation those words had just brought to her? Was it…
“Love.” After saying tit again, she hit a mental brick wall. “This, is not…,” she trembled, digging deeper, past the sensations flaring from within, past this joy pulsating in her mind, looking past this… love. Chrysalis wasn't love. She snuck glances of the changeling queen, reminding herself that they were not connected. Then, why did her heart pound so much?
“F-fear, pa-pain,” she stammered.
“Shh, shhs, yes, my subject, I am aware,” Chrysalis comforted, “you have been hurting yourself for a long time now, enough that you grew mould,” she informed with a smirk, scraping off tuffs of white fur, from Rarity's coat, rubbing the grey chitin underneath. “Won't you stop hurting yourself, it is very… Selfish.”
-Bh-ddbwwdb- Rarity's heart pounded once, rattling like a cage of steel in her chest, and chills devoured her inside and out. She didn't dare to think of the word Chrysalis just said. The mare's own words had been but thread, Chrysalis's had been embroidery on the finest of silk, but this… this word was etched in marble, slabs of stone pummelling her at the mere mention. It contradicted something deep, meaningful, that she still clung onto.
“I… won't hurt.” Rarity clarified, to herself and Chrysalis, she didn't want to experience… self.
“It gladdens me, so tell me, what do you want?”
Silence. It tasted sour, the question sat wrong in her maw, like a loose tooth in a mouthful of stew.
“L-…Love?” She watched – with eyes blackened by her engorged pupils – as Chrysalis’ smile warped to a frown.
“How selfish of you.”
-Bwwn-DWnnwb- Her heart thumped in her chest. Rarity squealed, flexing all her muscles to be rid of the tremors of regret shooting through her, pumping out of her heart – along with all the other toxins administered by the grub.
“H-hurts…”
“And here,” Chrysalis interjected, clutching Rarity's chin, “I thought you had promised to not hurt yourself anymore.” She let Rarity go, instead of her head slumping limp, the mare held her gaze on the queen.
“Love is not desired, love is given, and through giving love, love is earned. It cannot be gained through greed.”
“Love is not greed,” Rarity repeated.
At this moment, her horn shimmered, glints of blue twinkling as her magic collected, condensed and manifested, yet its motions contorted around her horn, swirls of magic, losing its saturation as it grew.
“Lust not to gain love, but to give,” Chrysalis instructed to the ragdoll of a pony, only the head stayed up… for she was the puppet master, pulling that one string.
Magic coalesced at rarity's forehead, sparkling and glowing in a translucent grey. Chains, chains of magic wrapping in random patterns over her horn, clutching it, digging into the bone, creaking through her marrow -Crrrrnrnh- -Klrr-.
“Do you understand, now?” Chrysalis wondered, the mare's eyes darting left and right, rippling along with her heartbeat.
Deep inside Rarity… was just a tremble, the pumping sensations she came to associate with love, sewing together what made sense, what was tangible, and ignoring the voices that hurt her, letting go of all that was… selfish. Even in her mind, she couldn't fathom the whole word that hurt her, thinking of it only as: Self. Her magic vibrated, louder, swirling like galaxies around the conduit of her powers.
The queen in the hive posed herself before the captive, massaging the growing abdomen, staring into Rarity's eyes and the dollops of drool leaking past her lips.
“For you see, the last and most important element of the hive, of love, is…” She leaned in, as the magical essence glowed as bright as a sunset, she whispered, “Generosity.”
-Shhnvrrzztth- The buzz of magic choked her. Rarity's eyes wedging open wide in an instant, the last of the white in her globes tarnished in cerulean. This singular word burrowed into her essence, and punctured it, spiking through her as an intangible spear. The weapon melded into her, spilling its glory through her veins and arteries, clearing it of filth, or pony smitten thoughts, cascading in through every fibre of her being, as if her mind had been dropped into an ocean of the finest wool, velvet and silk, an ocean she found herself sinking through, but relishing every aspect, of every moment.
With this, the magic contracted, chains clasped shut in a vice grip around Rarity's horn. -Chhrlk- -Kkcthclkt- Cracks burst from the conduit, mental armour shattered under a ceaseless iron hoof, as the chains under its internal structure, malforming it along the tangles of magic, warping it disfigured, bending skeletal matter around itself to craft hollows and gouges from top to bottom. -Knngkt- the magic dispersed, leaving the white appendage smothered in a shade of onyx, disfigured, matching her carapace. As the magic died down, Rarity's head fell. The marionette string had been cut.
Chrysalis marvelled at the body suspended from the wall, caressing her hooves along the top of the head to the billowing middle, feeling kicks and bumps emerge on the surface of the pliable underbelly.
“A worthy vessel,” she stated with a blunt tone. “Finally, she has lost herself,” she confirmed, and just as she turned to leave, added, “this is the power of love.”
Together with the parasitic grub, she had cultivated a husk of a personality within the mare, one more suitable to the interests of the hive. After this, there was only one detail the parasite had to wipe clean, a detail by the name of: Rarity.
~ 3 ~
In her hibernation, Rarity's body was at the mercy of the parasite, steadily growing and influencing her every muscle. Tufts of white coat was shed, joining the mountains below, ears sharpened, washed black like the rest of her bare carapace and all over her legs, segments of flesh shrivelled, compressed, dried and flaked off, falling like soot from burning coal, sculpting hollows through her legs and hooves. Her gut kept swelling, plying around the impressions of a form within her, a form she nourished through every stage of its development. Her mane dulled to a pale greenish tint from her royal purple, strings at a time washing over with new pigments, corrupting the mare down her hair stem. -Bbwnnmng- At her back, bulbs sprouted, growing, still slathered with her old fur. The bumps moulded, swelled like balloons and deflated, breathing. -Kklltch- The bulbs ruptured with a tear of soggy minced meat, from within sprung sheets of violet, cutting through the membrane like daggers but unfurling like the petals of a flower. The unicorn had gained wings.
Every now and then, she chuckled, just as bits of skin crumpled like a prune, or her wings flapped off globs of fluids, her sedated body laughed. But not in Rarity's voice.
~ 4 ~
“It is time to wake up.”
Eyelids peeled back over an expanse of azure, pure sky eyes with but a lake of white as a pupil. Confusion. Odd, heavy. All sensations it registered.
“Wake up, you do not want to miss this.”
That voice again. Before, the eyes had opened, but now they could see. Surrounded by friends, all of them gathered in a throne room, some worried, some giddy, some happy, but they were all there. Turning, where was the voice…? there…
“We wouldn't want to miss your first, and largest contribution to the hive yet, would we, my dear subject?”
Clarity. She nodded, smiling, wings buzzing at her back, clapping to the ground. She was on her back? -Bbwhmnbg- A bump in her gut shook her, heavy, right. -Crkrllgsh- The abdomen bobbed and wobbled again, she panted, quivering, there was something inside her.
“Witness it, my hive, we will see not one, but two new lives joining us,” The one with a crown announced, C-chrysalis, yes, it made all the friends happy, bouncing, buzzing… for… her?
“Am I making the hive happy?” She asked, delighted to hear her own voice, quivering and grunting as the strain took over. Friends helped her, held her down, massaged her massive stomach, adjusted her legs, surrounded by them. But… who was she?
“Mnnfgaawmf. She went into labour, gut quaking, every push ferrying her contribution to the hive closer, it would join them.
“Mmngf, mmgnrg,” she huffed, breathed in deeper lungfuls than she ever had before, her vagina stretching, but it didn't hurt, she was used to it, it felt right. Her womanhood pried open, something cold and slimy poking through. She couldn't see it past the bump of her belly, but she loved the slime, how it gooed up her birth canal, her baby chute stretched all the way out, and leaking along with the newborn. The lower lips morphed, distending and snapping back over the child's head, malforming to the girth of the changeling. It was a changeling, a friend, she could see it peeking out behind her tummy,
“W-welcome” She said as if automated, but got stuck at the next part, was the other word… what did you call someling?
-Splslsth- -Bbwwmb- Her stomach diminished with bumps and expansions of liquid latex, rumbling as the child wedged and squeaked its shoulders free from her thighs. -Sllsthsp- Her flower flapped and clapped, undulating over the polished carapace, so loose, she wondered how many she could deliver at a time.
“Mnnfawwng, mmmfa, aaawm,” her grunts developed into moans, rustling through her vocal chords and all the way through her gullet, filling her with comfort, with joy, it wasn't easy, but she was educated, with effort she pushed and concentrated, and everyling around her helped, holding her womanhood open, calming her, showering her with care. -Sllghts- Time ticked, the newborn squelched free little by little, through endurance, she kept at it, seeing more and more of the beautiful onyx foal she was delivering, what she gifted to everyone. -Shshlrlth- Lips clasped around the foals hindlegs, sealing shut with a smatter of fluid, and moulding to the outlines of every nook and gorge of its hooves, She felt warm all over, cooking in her own emotions, but… who… who was…
“Watch, and welcome to the hive, our new Brood mare,” Chrysalis proclaimed.
Then it clicked for her. “I… I am Brood mare!” she shouted, the cry devolving into a howl of pleasure, echoing through the halls in the hive, and the cheerful uproar of the changelings, just as she gave this new life to the hive. Spirit unleashed, a puff of sparkles gathered at her hips, iridescent in the rainbow of all colours of friendship, sparking her cutiemark aglow. Tepid ripples transported bolts of enjoyment through her marrow, prickling as it scratched an itch she didn't even know she had, the sparkles tearing at her flank, a simmering that dug its way to her hollowed heartstrings. Once the twinkle of light dispersed around her hind, so did the mark that stood for all she was, now all she had once been. Its colours remained vibrant, but every pixel of colour drained, granulated into powder and vanished into the aether with the twinkles of stars going out.
The brood mare's audience stemmed up in a cheering buzz, seeing the gemstones adorning their brood mare's hind fragment dissolve.
She reached a sense she had never felt before, like a dress, designed and crafted without any loss in quality from idea to finished product. This metaphor was strong in her mind, but like many other sensations she was going through, it lacked a canvas, context, and had no meaning, not anymore.
~ 5 ~
She laid panting, wheezing, with the newborn in her embrace, already a big, happy changeling foal, nuzzling his mother’s cheek. Chrysalis landed by the broodmare's side, and brushed over her mane.
“You have done well, however, your name is not brood mare, that is your tile, your duty.”
The brood mare turned her head, still exhausted. “O-oh, then…”
Chrysalis laid a hoof over the mare's mouth, and smiled. “I have a name in mind,” she then took a step back. “Rise, and join the hive, we greet you: Brood mare Regularity.”
