Chimera Fields slow burn

Named after the stars, Forrest thought, It fits. I do, too, she admitted with a sigh. There wasn't much that could heal a wound like that, a mother losing her child. No matter how many herbal remedies and wise old tales one was prescribed, that pain would linger. Sometimes, like it Forrest's case, the pain mellowed into a dull ache that was only really noticed when there was nothing else to think about. But in Olive's case, so it seemed, she hadn't had that break yet. It was a fresh cut and each step taken without her babies at her side was another grain of salt that she had to sleep with.

I'll tell you a story, she whispered, motioning for Olive to come closer, It might not have a happy ending, depending on what you're looking for. But it might help. Through her life, Forrest had seen just about everything a wolf could see. Midwifery had its perks and plenty of good days, but a lot of them were bad, too. It took her a long time to realize that without that balance, her work would be useless. I knew a young woman once, a few years back. The pack that I had done work in after finishing my training, that's where she lived with her mate. They were in love, I mean, absolutely enamored; I couldn't seperate them if I tried.

Well, she began again after a short pause, one thing led to another and she ended up pregnant. Of course, I worked with her through the entire thing, and when I tell you that boy did not leave her side once! Even when she was too sick to stand on her own, he was right there beside her. That was something that Forrest didn't understand. Of all of the love that she had in her (and she had a lot), none of it was romantic. She'd had flings, obviously, but the love was never reciprocated. Maybe that's my weakness, she thought.

Back to the story. Her pregnancy wasn't easy and neither was her labor. I told her that it was dangerous, carrying these babies. As soon as I noticed how fast they were growing and how weak she was becoming, I told her to reconsider. Forrest knew things. She knew how to terminate a pregnancy, and though she didn't like to, she always did when she had to. But that girl, there was no changing her mind. I guess love will do that to you, make you put someone else before yourself.

The pregnancy wasn't easy and neither was the birth, but after she finished, she had four healthy little babies to call her own. Forrest looked at Olive and pursed her lips, hoping that she was prepared for what would follow. I guess her mate didn't get the memo. You let things travel along the grapevine, stories get a little jumbled. I think that's what drove him crazy.

That night, he came into the whelping den and killed each one of those pups. If I hadn't walked in, he might have killed the girl and the poor thing wouldn't have fought back! She was so -- so dazed, feverish. She didn't know what'd even happened until he told her. A few moments of silence passed in recognition of those lost lives before the story started back up again. And, my God, I've never seen any as devastated since. Her cry was one of those cries that no matter how many more other ones you hear, it sticks with you. Sometimes, when everything else in the world was silent, she could still hear it.

She wouldn't eat, wouldn't drink. Nothing. I couldn't even get her to get up and use the bathroom outside of her den. All she wanted to do was cry and wallow in her own sorrow. If I didn't do something, I knew it wouldn't be long. So one evening, I snuck into her den and I wrapped myself around her, not caring what I touched or smelled or any of that. It was just her, only her. And I told her the same thing I want to tell you.

Forrest looked at Olive then, wanting to make sure that she was being heard. Our babies are better at living than we are. You get older and life becomes about survival. When you're a baby, all you know is love. That's it, dove. Just love. It doesn't matter who it's coming from or why it's there; only thing that matters is that they know how to feel it. You grow up and you learn how to hunt and fight and you spend time memorizing the names of the stars and the herbs that grow and when they grow — you do all of this, but you start to forget how to love.

So maybe we're better at surviving, but is there a reason for it if you can't live, too? I told that girl, I said, I'm sure you miss your babies very much and if I could bring them back to you, I would, I promise you that. But those babies didn't know any hate. They didn't know any pain, any wrong. They only knew love. They knew you.

I told her that keeping all of that love pent up wasn't gonna do her any good. I told her to live like she knew they were watching. How would she want them to think of her? I told her that the best thing she could do for herself and for her babies was to keep going. And she did.

Forrest didn't say anything after that. Her eyes were trained on the stars above; she was afraid that if she met Olive's gaze, she would see too much of herself.