Sun Mote Copse A Child Has Been Born into the World
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Ooc — Lia
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@Anatha @Elohim @Ar-Khalba @Eshamun 

BABIES!! She lets everyone know about the children in her call, but she'll want Ar-Khalba and Eshamun to be the ones to come on their birthday.

Winter had come. The red female had sensed it on the horizon for a time now, could smell its breath as it lingered out of sight. Now, though, as she rose from her den in the early morning, she knew it had come. Since she had discovered her pregnancy she had felt that it was joined with the coming of winter. Something within her bones told her that winter would come with her children, and that she would not deliver a moment sooner. Her breath fogged the air in great white puffs as she pant before her den. Her children had let her sleep the night past, which was not normal for them. They were still even now as she moved and wobbled to get a drink.

The grass underpaw was coated in frosted dew, though the ground beneath still held the warmth of the sun. It was not yet time for snow, or so she thought. She was unfamiliar with these lands, to be truthful, but snow had not come yet in her old home if it could be called that. She drank and returned to her den to watch the sun turn the sky orange and pink as it rose. The sky turned to flame, clouds casting shades of orange that differed and danced. The fire spread across the skies and she watched in awe, loving the shades that Molech paint. Just as the sun itself could be spotted, white-hot and blinding, she felt a stab of pain. She winced, but was not sure if it was from the sun or the pain that had fled.

She watched the sky for a moment longer, and after sometime the pain rose again. It rippled across her belly, making it taut. She groaned, shifting herself to lay on the ground. She'd felt contractions before now, had felt false labor, but this was different. She knew that this was true. She laid until the contraction passed and then rose and attempted to walk in a circle before her den. She knew that walking could hurry the process. Ar-Khalba flashed through her mind, should she call for him? Eshamun was next, and Arunik'ra, though she was still trekking. She would wait to call for anyone yet. 

An hour passed in agony. Her contractions continued steadily, but did not seem to grow closer. She knew that this was her labor, knew that Winter had brought the arrival of her children. She pray, wishing she could go to the shrine to bow her head. Her words were whispered fast, prayers for the safety of her children, for her labor to be quick, for her own health. Her vision in the acolyte ceremony had foretold her children, their fires had been strong and bright. She knew they would survive...and all the same she was frightened. She was lifting her head from prayer when a contraction hit much sooner than she was expecting it. With it came her water. She retreat back into her den, unwilling to risk anything by staying outside. As if the prayer had laid Molech's many arms around her, the contractions began to slowly increase in intensity and length. She lay and rose and turned and lay, panting and gritting her teeth against the pain.

A mantra repeat itself in her head, to gird against the pain. "Molech is with me, Molech is with me." Finally, she felt something slip from within her and she turned to look. The child lay within the sac, squirming. For a moment she stared, unsure of what to do. This was her first litter and she'd never seen her mother give birth. Thankfully, her instincts urged her to reach for the babe and in pulling it closer she punctured the sac. She began to clean the child, shell-shocked to be holding her own baby. She looked him over, counted his toes, enthralled. Her contractions continued, but she could not tear her eyes from this young one. His name rose on her lips with little prodding, and she gave it to him with a kiss on his small, mewling head. "Elohim, my son. May Molech bless you."

She pressed him to her side to feed, and though she would have liked to savor in that moment as well, she felt another life emerging and turned to greet this one faster than the other. She pulled the child to her, cleaning it right away. This one bore a darker stripe of black down the back, and she realized with delight that it was a girl. Tears fell down her cheeks and she kissed the child, she had been blessed with one of each sex. Her vision had told her of two babes, two sweet young ones strong and full of Molech's flame and here they were. She placed her daughter to her side, beside her brother. Elohim had been named for Molech's faith, and this child too needed her own name. "Anatha, sweet daughter." Asherah said, laughing with delight as she kissed the second born's head. She would bear her own calling within the faith, and Asherah had taken care to avoid any names that were too close to her own namesake.

Now, she watched them nurse, grunting and whining with all the noise of beloved newborns. She felt her body give another seize, though, and turned confused from her children. Her vision had spoken of two children, no more. Fear pierced her as she waited for the last child. She worried for a stillborn, or a deformed pup. Instead, another was born, rust colored and just as lively as the first two. It was another male, though smaller than his brother. Asherah cleaned the boy as lovingly as she had her first two children, but her fear had changed to understanding. She knew this child's purpose, his meaning in her litter. "Bachir." She whispered his name to him, and placed him to nurse at her side, sandwiching Anatha between her brothers. He would be offered to Molech, and so his name was fitting for his holy purpose. Chosen.

She reached down to nuzzle her children, and while sadness tried to tug at her for her child she would offer to Molech, she remained focused on her blessings. Because of Bachir, her two children would grow and serve the God. Because she had three, she could watch two grow. Because she was blessed, Bachir would know no pain in his life. She would mourn for him later, for now was time to love him and her other two, as a trio, while she could.

She did not call for anyone, not right away. She enjoyed her time with her children alone, as she had done with their pregnancy. She spent no more time on any one than the other, loving them all equally. Finally, she pulled herself away from them and moved from her den. The air outside had been warmed by the sun, and she closed her lids against the glow. The sun was high in the sky, afternoon. She had labored all morning. She raised her head to the sky and cried her joy for Molech and her sisters to hear. She cried to Ar-Khalba to know he had been blessed. Her song was happiness, lilting and lifting in thanks. Lowering her head she listened to her echo faded before moving back to her children, back to her joy.
 
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The world as he had known it was small, and dark. He had felt other things beyond himself, but in the ways of one so young did not spare these things a thought. He had kicked these things and been kicked by them, had rocked and jostled as his earth and moved. When the earth began to close in on him, he had felt an emotion he had not felt before. He did not know names of things, but he knew he didn't like this feeling, this squeezing, or the way the thud-thudder beat quickly in his chest.

Suddenly he was no longer being squeezed, but the world was dimly brighter. He struggled, finding a new feeling that he did not like. His mother broke his sac and he could draw screaming breaths to show his distaste for all these feelings. The next feeling was better. The soft warm stroke, the gentle caress of something large. He felt the rumbled that he had known well before, though it was not as rumbly now. It was not as with him as it had been before. Before this could strike him as not good, he was moved by the large thing to a new place. He cried, but suddenly he could smell something. He had never smelled before, but this was something good whatever this feeling was. He reached for the good, bumping his nose into his mother's belly. His body compelled him to part his mouth that now made so much noise (his own rumbles inside himself, imagine!) and close it over the warm good smell. 

Milk bubbled into his mouth. This feeling he liked. This feeling was better than any feelings before, despite the many new ones. He grew quiet and nursed, only emitting a few noises when the large thing placed a different warm thing beside him. This was one of the other things from before! He kicked at it, for old times sake, but soon remembered the warm good smell and returned to nursing. He felt the pressure of the other thing at his side, though he didn't know his brother had been placed to nurse as well. He grunted happily as the warm smell good was joined by more of the large thing's touch.

By the time Asherah rose to leave, he had fallen asleep, fat and happy. The cold woke him shortly, though, and he cried his own rumbles until it returned.
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She had been nothing, floating, in a world that consisted of darkness and motionlessness, and it had suited her fine. But with a explosion of movement that was the single most violent thing the girl had yet to experience, she was expelled into a world of feeling and thought and so much more. And quite suddenly her maw opened as air flooded her lungs, and the sudden contrast of life, of breath and oxygen, had her gasp.

still, darkness reigned, though she knew no other than it. As did soundlessness, a profound quiet that was neither new nor frightening. But still, she could feel, and taste, and she sense was as awe inspiring as it was disorienting. She had but one purpose, however, and as she found herself sandwiched between forms she could not name, instinct bade her to seek something, and as she discovered a teat and begun to suckle, she knew she had succeeded. Sensation as one of the forms beside her pummeled her, yet she did not move, only writhed a moment in her discomfort.

She slipped into a slumber soon after, warm and content, dreams nothing but darkness. Only did she stir when suddenly there was a cold, and she emitted a startled chirp, shifting closer to her brother and pushing against him greedily as if she might steal his warmth.
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When the call came, Ar-Khalba knew his world had grown significantly. The tone of Asherah's gave her away; there was exhaustion, but ultimately, her call was one of joy. He heard her from the grove, where he was caching the last remaining herbs that he had collected and dried days prior. He dropped his task immediately, casting his herbs to the dirt as he turned with a rare enthusiasm as he took off in a run toward the whelping den.

When he approached, his pace slowed to a grinding hault. He stopped a fair distance away from the whelping den and looked at the darkened hole that his newborn children occupied. Ar-Kalba kept his distance as to not disturb the new mother, but he did chuff once to let Asherah know that he was outside.
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Ooc — ebony
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#5
powerplay! please let me know if i should edit <3

[table width=55%][tr][td]
when the woman called, her voice cracked through with exhaustion and yet laden with hope, eshamun paused in her task, great emotions welling within her. the first was pride, that her pack should bring forth their first children. it meant perhaps that they would survive the winter to come, and be stronger for it. the second was grief, a harsh twinge that surprised the canaanite. perhaps she felt it should be her in the whelping den, with children at her breast, but eshamun put it away from her. molech would grant her these things in time. the third was dread, now that she knew what she must do, what she had promised asherah, and the fourth —
eshamun paused before the denmouth, and gave a nod to ar-khalba. these were his children; of course he should be present. "asherah," the ekar-aji called gently, before descending to her belly and making her way into the den. aware that a new mother could lash out unexpectedly, eshamun kept up her guard, eyes adjusting to the light. 
three beautiful children lay alongside asherah — eshamun lifted her gaze to the proud, drawn face of the acolyte. "you have blessed us, lovely daughter of molech."[/tr][/td][/table]
 
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Within her sanctum, she was absorbed with her children. She could not drawn her eyes from them, could not end her marveling at their forms. She imagined she could see pieces of herself in them already, pieces of her parents. Would they grow to resemble her own siblings? It was a heart-warming thought. Outside the den, she heard footsteps. She stiffened, moving quickly to block the children from any invaders. Ar-Khalba issued a chuff from a respectable distance, showing that he would not enter unless invited. The idea of letting him in, letting him close, at once frightened her in the age old way of females and excited her. She had just come to the conclusion that he deserved to see them whole, all of them, when another set of footsteps began.

These drew closer, to the denmouth, and she felt her lip twitching and a growl on the verge of rising in her chest. A voice called to her, soothing her anger. "Eshamun." She called out, hoarse but delighted. The female began to crawl into the den, and Asherah felt only the smallest of misgivings. Eshamun would not hurt her children. Only one had any reason to fear the ekar-aji, and that time had not yet come.

Eshamun did not enter completely, but she was in enough to see Asherah, and the children. The woman, the new mother, moved to show her bounty. "I have been blessed, to have three so healthy. Two males and a female." She bent to touch the tiny bodies as she named them. "Anatha, my daughter. Elohim, my first son." She nosed gently at the third's head, a solemn silence settled for a moment. "And Bachir, my last born, my chosen one." She raised her eyes to meet Eshamun's and she knew the woman would understand.

"I wish for Ar-Khalba to see them, as well. As they are now, as they were born. Time will come when they will no longer be three, and I believe he should see this blessing in full. Molech was kind to us in giving one of each, and Bachir. The will of The Many Armed God is made clear to me." Despite her weariness, her aches, she was full of joy. She would rest eventually, but she could not bring her eyes from the children to do so. There was so little time to enjoy them, sleep seemed a small price to pay.
 
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Ooc — Lia
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The large thing did not move again for a long time, and Elohim slipped into sleep. Occasionally he would feel the touch of the large thing, but it was never unpleasant. He felt the movements of the one beside him, but did not kick it anymore. His dreaming was interrupted as the large thing did move and he gave a loud squeak of protest. It settled on the opposite side of where it had been and he wriggled in distaste, wanting the warm to come back.

The large thing was stiff, tense, and he disliked this as well. This world was full of things that brought bad feelings and he was finding many new things to dislike. The large thing made happy rumblings in it's chest causing him to create some squeaks of his own. Then, finally, it was back where it had started. He reached again for the warm good smell and began to nurse. The large thing touched him once and rumbled, but continued to rumble for sometime. He remembered this from before, and found himself slipping away to sleep once more.
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There was a great deal of shifting and moving, and the girl decided she did not like this in the slightest. Her discontent was expressed with another, single loud chirp, comparable to that of a chipmunk. She shifted, rolling in an odd tumble of limbs, until the warmth was beside her once more and she pressed against the soft, the warm, the sensations she found quite quickly that she loved. 

Then the warmth rumbled, vibrations that had her still in surprise, but when she decided the vibrations did not disturb the warmth or her comfort did she ignore them, once more drifting into that blissful unawareness that was sleep, utterly content.
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#9
As Eshamun arrived, and subsequently stepped forward toward the den-mouth, Ar-Khalba remained rooted to the spot until the invitation was formally offered to him. His heart compelled him to approach, yet his conditioning spoke otherwise. He could hear them speak from inside. There were three. Three healthy, living children. Ar-Khalba couln't help but move with jittery, nervous excitement as he stood in wait.

But all was not well. One, the third, was marked for sacrifice. His heart sank in his chest. Had his sacrificial litter with Eshamun not been enough to please their angry God? Even the thought of the ritual tied Khalba's stomach into knots. Yet, his devotion to the sisters and to Molech was strong enough to look past even the most horrid realities.

He could not hold it any longer. He needed to see them. With a slow, testing step, Khalba began to make his way closer to the whelping den.
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Ooc — ebony
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last from esh!

[table width=55%][tr][td]
eshamun listened to asherah speak, her eyes trained upon the rust-colored bundles at the woman's side. here was a greatly blessed wolfess — the ekar-aji knew she had chosen well when she made asherah an acolyte for the position of res drunak. a sad curve lit eshamun's maw, but she nodded. eight days hence she would return to fulfill her promise to asherah and send the child called bachir back to the eight-armed one.
a backward flick of her ears brought the sound of ar-khalba's footsteps, and eshamun knew she must let the father see his children. "rest now, asherah, blessed among mothers." the ruddy woman exited the den and turned to face her lover. she wished so much to spirit him away and remove the tension from his features — now she must explain her decision to take yet another of his children from him. 
"ar-khalba," and her voice was a gentle breeze among summer leaves. "for the malkaria as well as molech i do this. our pack is small and cannot support the needs of three full litters. you know this as well as i. therefore, i will take one child from each of the baakar. molech gave us this land, but it is mine to tend." the glitter of tears had appeared in her eyes, but eshamun refused to weep, not now. "go to them, khalba."
do not hate me, please do not hate me, she wished to beg of him, but turned away quickly and was gone into the wintry forest soon thereafter.[/tr][/td][/table]
 
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Elohim is asleep, so feel free to skip!
 
Asherah did not miss the frown on Eshamun's face, but she herself did not allow sadness to mar her features. Not when there was still time. Not when there was joy in these moments. She too heard Ar-Khalba approaching, and while an acient instinct within her compelled her to growl and force him out, she silenced it. He would not have as much time as she did with Bachir, and he needed to see them all.

Eshamun bid her farewell, and turned to leave. Asherah watched the entrance and listened to the words exchanged. She was telling Ar-Khalba of the need to take a child and Asherah gazed towards her children, drowning out the sound with her focus on their breathing. Soft, tiny whispers of life barely even there. A miracle. She lifted her head as she heard Eshamun make her exit, smiling already. Pride bubbled within her again and she lifted her head and held herself to show that.
 
Zee Gut Doktor
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#12
Bastian cameo!

Asherah had gone into labor, and pups were born, alive. He lingered near the den, unsure if he was allowed to enter. He watched quietly as Ar-Khalba approached; so he was the father then. It was unsurprising, as he had been the only male in a pack of virile women before Bastian had arrived. But Eshamun's solemn features confused him. What was there to be sad about? Healthy (well, he was assuming for now) pups were born, the pack was well fed.... And as he heard it, he realized what set them apart. He wanted to laugh, tonelessly, at the irony. To push so ferverently for the birth of pups, only to lose one in a bargain with their God.

Eshamun departed, and Bastian chose then to slink up to the whelping den, poking his head in cautiously. He chose not to bring up the sombering news, that one of the three pups her body labored to make would die, instead focusing on those who would live. Are my services needed, Fräulein? 
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Ooc — Ryan
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It was Eshamun the greeted him first, and she was the harbenger of both good and bad news. The children were healthy and strong, but one needed to die. Ar-Khalba could feel his chest clench in a reactionary manner, but he nodded. "I understand," he whispered. With winter approaching, and two others among the pack pregnant, At-Khalba knew the pack had a lot on its plate. For survival's sake, the herd needed to be cut back. His son was not exempt from the culling of the fold. It was fair, but painful nonetheless.

He could not bring himself to hold Eshamun's decision against her. She did what was necessary, and he knew she struggled with it too. She bore the pain just as he had during the iliidu-dam. As tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, Ar-Khalba pressed his face into the scruff of Eshamun's neck for a passing moment before she stole away.

By the command of his queen, Ar-Khalba made his way into the den's mouth and laid eyes on his children for the first time. He was overcome with emotion: joy, awe, and a twinge of bittersweet sadness. "They're beautiful," he muttered, looking to Asherah as he spoke. He had never seen something so beautiful in his life.

The emotional moment, however, was broken by the arrival of the accented wolf. Ar-Khalba had no issue with him, but being new among the fold -- he did not trust him around his young. He turned his gaze from his children, and trained his careful eye on Bastian.
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Ar-Khalba appeared, but his eyes did not seek Asherah, they flew to the tiny bodies at her side. His attentions to the children pleased her, his voice was soft as he commented upon them. She beamed again, nodding her head as her eyes fell to the blessings. "We have been blessed, Ar-Khalba. Let me intro-" It was here that Bastian's foreign voice entered the den. She felt a twinge of irritation at the interruption, that the doctor had come without being called for. Eshmun and Ar-Khalba could be allowed, she could suppress her desires to growl. Bastian was too new, however, and while she was undoubtedly interested in learning more of the male, a low growl worked up her throat in warning. She would not let him be tempted into entering any further.

"Your presence is appreciated, but your skills are not required here, doctor." She fought to make her tone more cordial, but couldn't keep all of the bite from it. "Now is time for family, you will meet the young soon enough." She felt possessive over her children as a whole, over her Bachir and the precious moments he had left. Her point was clear, she was asking him to leave entirely.

Her eyes flicked to Ar-Khalba, a tad stonier than before, a mite of her joy paled in the face of her irritation. She waited to hear the steps recede, waited to be sure the doctor would leave...and would leave completely. She'd not have anyone lingering outside her den. Her gaze said as much to Ar-Khalba, and that if the male lingered she wished him to be removed.
 
Zee Gut Doktor
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He was not required, and they made that very clear. From Ar-Khalba's steely gaze to Asherah's biting words and low growl, he knew his time here was limited. It was no matter to him; he was simply asking, after all. Pregnancy complications were common, even in experienced mothers. He nodded, understanding, and without a word slipped away, leaving the mother to bask in her triumph.