Morningside Cuesta well we can't call it pup; it needs a name

@Grayday - set a few hours before this thread.

Sleep and silence and solitude — three of the things which Khoe had once neglected to understand the significance of were now all that she longed for. The small peeps and coos of the pups kneading at her side, their tiny paws against her skin; there was nothing that Khoe would have traded her chance at motherhood for, but even she had to admit that her hands were beyond full. Every once in a while, she would find herself able to doze off for a moment or two, but this was only until one of the girls decided that the only boy was taking up too much space, and pushed him off of his teat, leaving him shaken and crying out for help. 

Khoe sighed into the darkness of the early morning as she bent down and gently guided him back to her side. Eventually, she would have to clean them and make sure that they had each done their dooties duties (one of her less glamorous activites), but for now, she thought that she ought to call her mate for some quality alone time before things got too rowdy. She called for him in a set of low barks, so as to cause as little disturbance as she could. He was nearby (of course), so she trusted that he would hear and find his way to them.

He felt anxious and awkward, lying outside the den this way. He could hear the tiny peeps and squawks of his children, and it killed him to have them out of his sight. He'd dreamed, once, that Khoe had taken them away as soon as they were born, and that he'd been unable to see or smell them through the rain, but could hear them calling out for them in their tiny little voices.

As soon as the summons reached his ears, the male was back on his paws, padding tentatively into the den. No matter how he strained them, his eyes could not make out much of his children in the dark, and so he looked instead to the luminous green of his mate's gaze.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice hushed so he wouldn't disturb the pups.

His steps were swift, leading him to her with pleasant haste. Khoe lowered her ears and grinned with an awe-stricken sort of joy as her eyes met Day's. The most mundane interactions between them had become magical in her mind; just having him around was enough to brush away all of the bad for even just a little while. Maybe it was because of all he had done for her and the gratitude that had been left unspoken, but more than likely, it was the leftovers from the organic-chemical-cocktail her brain had taken a few sips from during labor.

Just got lonely, is all. I thought you'd like to spend some time with us. Another discontented peep came from a pup, leading to another...and another...and so on, until the three were in a whiny choir preaching their woes. Khoe scoffed and looked down at them, moving small heads around so that each pup had his or her own space to roam, then turned back to Day. I could use a distraction.

Day was only half-listening to his mate; as soon as the peeping had started, his eyes had been drawn to the wiggling shapes nestled against her belly. He made a token effort to look at her while she spoke, but his gaze always ended up directed toward the three little pups.

"Of course," he replied, only mostly aware of what had been asked of him. He lowered himself to his belly and nibbled affectionately at one of Khoe's ears. "You did real good, Cutie," he murmured. "They're beautiful - I can't wait to see how they look when they're older."

I only did it because you were there to help me, Khoe laughed. She thought for a moment about the night of the birth; some of it had been sweet and pure, but most of it had been ugly. Butt ugly. This part of their lives was one of her favorites, aside from the poor manners and nightly serenades, but Grayday was right — getting to see who they became was where the real fun was at. She imagined calling them each back to the den once they'd gotten old enough to realize what their legs could do. Of course, she'd only be able to do that if she had something to call them by.

Now that you're here, she whispered softly, readjusting herself to a slightly more comfortable position, maybe we can pick names. Back home, they would invite the entire community to watch the ceremonies and to feast on the meal that followed. But that was back then and this was now; all that she had was her mate and their children and a sliver of sunlight from the rising star.

"Well, let's see," he said, dipping his head to gently pull the nearest pup - the male, he thought - to rest on his forepaws. There was a bit more light, there, and Day thought the boy's pelt was earthier than Sunny and Dawn's. "He looks like my dad," he said with a small, wistful smile on his face. He lifted his eyes to meet Khoe's and added, "But his name was Mud, and I don't think we'll be calling our son that."

Looking back down at the boy's tiny features, Day couldn't help but wonder if his personality would be similar to his late grandfather's. "What do you think?" he asked.

It was a sticky situation, but Khoe had been in more than enough of those. Maybe as a nickname, she cooed, using a paw to bat at whatever part of Day was nearest. If there was anything she knew at all, it was that her son would not be named Mud. Still, she couldn't quite express this as adamantly as she wanted to for fear of offending her mate. I had a brother named Mirza; a prince. How about that? It was beyond traditional, and the tiny boy didn't quite live up to it with his whiny tendencies and soft spine, but a mother could only hope that he would grow into it.

Day balked inwardly at the name. It wasn't the sort of thing wolves in his family had been named, but maybe he could grow to like it? "My mom used to tell us a story about a prince named Dauntless," he said, innanely. That was all he knew about princes, and the prince in that story had been... well, a laughing stock, really.

"Miraz," he said. And then, realizing he'd gotten it wrong, "Mizra? Say it one more time."

Oh no. This would be hopeless. She was going to give them name names instead of word names, and he was sure they'd be a pretty as Khoe and Akuti, but he'd be shit at remembering them.

Mirza, Khoe laughed. 

Dauntless. 

It had a certain ring to it and though it wasn't as traditional as Abhinav or Irza, Khoe thought that it could do. Does it mean anything? she asked. Whatever they called him, he would be treated like royalty; having daughters was a gift, but having a son was a blessing. And Khoe knew that there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect him.

Day hummed, committing the name to memory. Mirza Morningside, he thought. It had a certain ring to it.

"It means... someone who's not daunted," he replied, remembering how he and Shale had giggled over the prince's name when their mother had told that story. The prince should've been called Dauntful. Someone like Mud would've been better suited to the name. "It's showing fearlessness and determination," he added more helpfully, realizing that repeating the same word might not help his mate understand.

"What about Mirza Dauntless Morningside?" He paused, his head cocking to the side. "Does your family do middle names? Or surnames? My family didn't, but - " Amber's had. And Amber had given his children middle names and surnames, and even though he couldn't remember them, for the most part, he'd liked the idea. "They can all have a name from both of us. How's that?" he suggested.

Khoe sighed and tilted her head as she observed the squirming pup. Occasionally, he would peep or yelp, but there was nothing particularly fearless about him. That being said, we was surely determined to find his way back to his teat, as could be seen with his poor attempts at crawling back to her. Mirza Dauntless, Khoe rehearsed, Dauntless Mirza; I think it could work.

And so, just like that, the first pup had a name. Mirza Dauntless Morningside, she whispered into his deaf ears after lifting him and placing him back to her side. It was a tradition in her home pack to whisper the true names of their children, so that the demons would not know how to call them into temptation. Who's next?

Day gently drew the next pup into the cradle of his forelegs, and smiled softly as the light splashed over his daughter's pretty face. It was the red speckled pup with the pale nose - Day had gawked when he'd first laid eyes on her, as she looked like no pup he'd ever seen. But now, she looked striking and exotic, and he flicked his eyes up to meet his mate's in startled approval.

"She's so different," he murmured, soothing her with a nuzzle as she began to fuss. "I've never seen spots like this before. And look at her nose - it's almost lavender, it's so pale. Think it'll darken up?"

A moment ago, he would've said that he hoped so - but when his eyes fell on the girl again, he couldn't picture her any more perfect.

They come from my side of the family, Khoe boasted in reference to the uniquely placed spots lining her daughter's pelt. Although they were prominent now, she knew they would only brighten and spread with age. As Grayday continued on with his fatherly gawking, Khoe began to examine the tiny girl, too, making her own note on the tiny snout. Just like my lavender patch, she whispered with a blossoming grin. 

Arushi. It means bright, just like her.

"Arushi," Day repeated, wagging his tail when he seemed to get it on the first try. And, when he looked down at the girl, Arushi seemed to describe her perfectly - everything from her squishy little face to the painted rouge patterns of her fur, to her tiny white paws. "I like it," he confirmed, tail still beating the ground. "Do you like it, little 'rushi?" he asked, nuzzling her affectionately and finding himself inordinately pleased by her sweet little form. An excited whimper escaped the distinguished male as he cuddled his daughter closer, burying her in the fur and folds of his neck while his eyes scrunched together in happiness.

A moment later, he was back to being an adult again. "And Lavender? You like that?" he verified. Lavender Arushi Morningside. It flowed.

Lavender Arushi, Khoe whispered, both to her mate and child (at this point, she was fairly sure that if Grayday was up to any funny business, she would be able to tell). I like it. It was melodic and sweet; a name gentle enough to fit even the delicate fireball sitting in her Pa's lap. Of course, there was a bit of maternal jealousy that sprang up while she watched Day coddle over the Lav, but Khoe knew that she was just as much his as she was hers, so she had no plans to take that mutual euphoria away from either of them.

Okay, she grunted as she shifted her weight onto the opposite shoulder, one last baby. She looked up at Grayday for approval before lifting Lavender from her seat and placing her back at her side, then plucking up the last speckled pup that remained. This one was darker than the others, though it was clear that she would (someday) resemble her father more than her mother.

What do you think?

Day looked down at his coal-dark daughter, an inexplicable sorrow growing in his heart. Gently, he traced the the short, stubbly lines of folded little ear, wondering why the tiny girl had evoked these feelings in him.

"She looks like Sunny," he realized. She looked like both of them had, when they were little like this. Day stared down at the girl and saw Dawn's anger (so like his own) and Sunny's rejection, and the rift that'd grown between father and son, son and daughter - "Easy," he said, his throat feeling stiff and unweildy, as though it didn't want to allow him to speak the words on his mind. But he forced them out because Akuti was right there beside him, and he wanted her to understand; knew that she wanted to understand. "I just want - " There was no end to the things he wanted - "I just want things to be easy. Her, these kids, Sunny and Dawn... This one's called Easy."

He looked at his wife, hoping she wouldn't argue but half-expecting it anyway.

There were no words.

Khoe understood that Day was hurting; even though the topic never came up much between them, she knew that Sunny leaving had hurt his father. And though it had been under completely different circumstances, Khoe knew what it felt like to lose a child in turn. Easy, she repeated, Easy Ishara. It means rich. She will be the one to make all of our lives rich with joy and laughter, I can tell. Khoe smiled and looked up to meet Grayday's gaze, then moved forward only enough to graze her muzzle across his own. 

Easy was a lovely name, so thought Khoe, but she knew better than to jinx herself the way Daddy Gray just had.

Grayday leaned over to lick Khoe's cheek, glad that she'd been accepting of the name. It felt strange to think of the three with their new names, especially knowing he'd had such a hand in choosing them. Easy Ishara, Lavender Arushi, and Dauntless Mirza.

"That'll do it, I reckon," said Day, giving Ishara one last nuzzle before reluctantly transfering her back to her mother's side. He tore his eyes away from the three to give Khoe a tender look. "Do you need anything?" he asked her, wishing he could help care for the pups more directly.

Khoe smiled at her mate and then the three little ones beside her. That's all. She didn't need anything but for him to be there with her; she wanted to have him there to watch them grow and learn together, and to know that he wasn't off chasing dreams. She'd seen enough women raise young on their own to know that it wasn't the life for her.

She yawned, as did Lavender and Dauntless, though it seemed Easy was wide awake (for the time being). Why not just have a little rest with us? I'm sure you can spare a little time.

Day grinned. He'd been hoping she'd say something like that - something about seeing a woman with babies always made him want to get close to said woman. He shuffled closer to his mate and attacked her face with his tongue, trying to groom away her tastey eye-crunchies and soothe her tired body.