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So i bought this book the other day, and i decided to share it with you guys. 
Yes it is a WoW Lore
"Hold her head; that's it, lad!" The mare, her normally white coat gray with sweat, rolled her eyes and whickered. Price Arthas Menethil, only son to King Terenas Menethil II, one day to rule the kingdom of Lordaeron, held fast to the bridle and murmured soothingly.
The horse jerked her head violently and almost took the nice-year-old with her. "Whoa, Brighmane," Arthas said. "Easy, girl, it'll be all right. Nothing to worry about."
Jorum Balnir grunted in amusement. "Doubt you'd feel that way if something the size of this foal was coming out of you, lad."
His son Jarim, crouching beside his father and the prince, laughed and so did Arthas, giggling uncontrollably even as hot and soggy foam from Brightmane's champing mouth dropped onto his leg.
"One more push, girl," Balnir said, moving slowly along the horse's body to where the foal, encased in shiny shroudlike membrane, was halfway through its journey into the world.
Arthas wasn't really supposed to be here. but when he had no lessons, he often sneaked away to the the Balnir farmstead to admire the horses Balnir was known for breeding and to play with his friend Jarim. Both youths were well aware that a horsebreeder's son, even one whose animals were regularly bought as mounts for the royal household, was not a "proper" companion for a prince. Neither cared much, and thus far none of the adults had put a halt to the friendship. And so it was that he had been here, building forts, throwing snowballs, and playing Guards and Bandits with Jarim, when Jorum had called to the boys to come watch the miracle of birth.
The "miracle of birth" was actually pretty disgusting, Arthas thought. He hadn't realized there'd be so much...goo involved. Brightmane grunted and heaved again, her legs held stiff and straight out, and with a sloshy wet sound her baby entered the world.
Her heavy head thumped down into Arthas's lap, and she closed her eyes as she caught her breath. The boy smiled, stroking the damp neck and thick, rough mane, and looked over to where Jarim and his father were attending to the foal. It was chilly in the stables at this time of year, and steam rose faintly from its warm, wet body. With a towel and dry hay, father and son rubbed off the last of the foal's unsettling shroudlike covering, and Arthas felt his face stretching in a grin.
Damp, gray, all long tangled legs and big eyes, the foal looked around, blinking in the dim lantern light.
More to come later, so check back up to look for more.
Yes it is a WoW Lore
Part One
The Golden Boy
The Golden Boy
"Hold her head; that's it, lad!" The mare, her normally white coat gray with sweat, rolled her eyes and whickered. Price Arthas Menethil, only son to King Terenas Menethil II, one day to rule the kingdom of Lordaeron, held fast to the bridle and murmured soothingly.
The horse jerked her head violently and almost took the nice-year-old with her. "Whoa, Brighmane," Arthas said. "Easy, girl, it'll be all right. Nothing to worry about."
Jorum Balnir grunted in amusement. "Doubt you'd feel that way if something the size of this foal was coming out of you, lad."
His son Jarim, crouching beside his father and the prince, laughed and so did Arthas, giggling uncontrollably even as hot and soggy foam from Brightmane's champing mouth dropped onto his leg.
"One more push, girl," Balnir said, moving slowly along the horse's body to where the foal, encased in shiny shroudlike membrane, was halfway through its journey into the world.
Arthas wasn't really supposed to be here. but when he had no lessons, he often sneaked away to the the Balnir farmstead to admire the horses Balnir was known for breeding and to play with his friend Jarim. Both youths were well aware that a horsebreeder's son, even one whose animals were regularly bought as mounts for the royal household, was not a "proper" companion for a prince. Neither cared much, and thus far none of the adults had put a halt to the friendship. And so it was that he had been here, building forts, throwing snowballs, and playing Guards and Bandits with Jarim, when Jorum had called to the boys to come watch the miracle of birth.
The "miracle of birth" was actually pretty disgusting, Arthas thought. He hadn't realized there'd be so much...goo involved. Brightmane grunted and heaved again, her legs held stiff and straight out, and with a sloshy wet sound her baby entered the world.
Her heavy head thumped down into Arthas's lap, and she closed her eyes as she caught her breath. The boy smiled, stroking the damp neck and thick, rough mane, and looked over to where Jarim and his father were attending to the foal. It was chilly in the stables at this time of year, and steam rose faintly from its warm, wet body. With a towel and dry hay, father and son rubbed off the last of the foal's unsettling shroudlike covering, and Arthas felt his face stretching in a grin.
Damp, gray, all long tangled legs and big eyes, the foal looked around, blinking in the dim lantern light.
More to come later, so check back up to look for more.
