Blacktail Deer Plateau Bergfrue

rusalka lingers near as solveig labors, a little surprised that he is welcomed into the birthing room and everyone else were commanded to leave. it takes an effort not to pace, not to let the nerves he feels thrumming like a second heartbeat in his stomach cloy their way up his throat. but he is nervous — and he wasn't even the one giving birth!

rusalka watches, this time, the birth of each of his newest batch of children where they nestle against solveig; nursing, his golden gaze misty with tears unshed. he slides down onto his belly before her; humbled and awestruck and pious in solveig's presence. women were goddesses, truly!

they are beautiful, his deep timbre wobbles, but the cairn patriarch is not embarrassed. this is his wife. these are his children and he has just witnessed the most incredible thing! you are beautiful. he presses a kiss to her cheek, brushing his muzzle featherlight over each baby cairn's back.

his heart full to bursting while wishing their siblings were here to meet them.

of course. rusalka murmurs, more than happy to oblige with her traditions. what is this tradition? the nine day wait? it is different than the cairn's tradition — nothing could be as bad as the drop to rusalka, if he were asked — and he is always interested in learning more about her culture.