The Sunspire am i being proud of you too loud.

There'd been many times throughout this pregnancy that Liffey had cursed herself for not learning more about motherhood and birthing and raising kids from Finley when she'd had the chance. Of course, she'd been less than a year old when she'd run away, and way too young to be even the slightest bit curious about that sort of thing. Up until a few months ago, she still couldn't have confessed to having any interest in knowing. But then there'd been Rannoch, and their marriage, and their came the dreams of their future. Liffey had never before wanted kids. But suddenly, she found herself desperate to have Rannoch's kids.

And now, it seemed, it was time to have them.

Maybe.

The pain lanced through her unexpectedly, waking her from a dead sleep in the early hours of the morning. She gasped from it, successfully jolting both herself and her mate awake. Liffey looked down at her massive stomach anxiously and whined. Her eyes shot again to @Rannoch. "It hurts... It hurts.. Is it supposed to.. hurr----" she gasped again and rolled onto all fours, her voice pitching into a strained whimper.

Rannoch was uncharacteristically coherent when he abruptly awakened; it was as though the pain that coursed through Liffey indicated to him that shit was about to go down and that he needed to be attentive. Rannoch's heart began to thrum, and he studied her briefly before raising onto all fours. Rannoch had figured that it was about time for her to give birth, and he could only hope that this was what was causing her pain. 

"It's, uh," Rannoch stammered, uncertain briefly of what to say—his mind was racing at a million miles a second, and it took him a moment to get his thoughts in line. When he did, Rannoch recalled hearing somewhere within the multiple conversations that he had had on the subject that labor was, well, laborious. "Going to hurt, yeah." Super eloquent, Rannoch.  

​"Do you want me to call for @Hyacinth?" A medic would be ideal for the first-time parents, especially if Liffey's pain wasn't originating from labor. At the moment, he could only be optimistic. "And... do you want me in here?" Rannoch asked, with hesitation. He knew that Terance was outside when Seabreeze was giving birth, and he didn't know if that was just how things happened, or it was a preference.

Through the pain, Liffey still managed to pay just enough attention to Rannoch's response. She looked at him sharply when he suggested calling for one of their packmates, her eyes narrowing in a mistrustful frown. "No," she said promptly, but then her tone softened as she added, "And.. Go, but.. stay close? Please?" Something instinctive told her Rannoch should not be there with her when she did this, but it was a feeling very much at odds with her nature, which demanded that he be near always. This would be an acceptable compromise.

"I love you," she added quickly, just before he left (assuming he did... I bet he will). She didn't at all suspect that she wouldn't make it through this and so she didn't say it with any sort of finality. Just with affection and the anxiety you would expect from a young wolf about to become a mother for the very first time.

Liffey's requests were accommodated almost immediately. Rannoch lingered for a moment, only to reply, "I love you, too. You've got this, Liff." He held her gaze for a moment more and then turned, and exited the den.

Once outside, Rannoch sat vigilantly at the mouth of the cave; it felt natural for him to stand as a sentry as Liffey did what as nature intended her to do.

The moment Rannoch left, Liffey began to regret it. She struggled hard not to call him back in, knowing she would likely just throw him out again. She was such a disaster and had been throughout the entirety of her pregnancy. Her mate had been absurdly patient and supportive through it all and she repaid him in full by being even more of a hot damn mess at every turn. Even know, she struggled not to sob and wail and rage about ever agreeing to carry children in the first place, but that was a feeling that would only last another few minutes before she remembered her mate outside and remembered why she had wanted this - for him.

And then about ten minutes after she calmed down, she'd be flipping her shit again, eventually shifting to keep pace with when she was and wasn't having contractions. At least Liffey is consistent.

It felt like hours before there was finally a shift in her experience. She'd tried to busy herself by digging at the bedding she had so precariously placed, placing it precariously again, and then tearing it all apart and starting over. It had done little to make time go faster. By the time the first pup came, Liffey's nerves had laid waste to her senses, which actually was a good thing as otherwise, instinct may never have had a chance to jump into her brain and begin guiding her actions. Lord knows she was not equipped to manage it otherwise.

The first pup was a tiny thing. She came easily into the world - so easy that Liffey had been very uncertain it had happened at all. But she nabbed the little pup and cleaned her up well and tucked her in to nurse for a bit, only to stand quite suddenly and prepare for the next.

The second daughter was more difficult, and once she was out in the world, Liffey could understand quite plainly why the experience had been so different. This one was bigger, Liffey noted as she did her wolfy motherly duties for the newborn. She looked to compare them as she picked up Two in her jaws to move her over to her sister, but was grasped instead by panic when she didn't immediately see her firstborn anywhere. When she found the tiny girl a few seconds later and set the other down to complete the set, it was very clear - One was a runt. Unless Two was just a behemoth...

Daughter number three arrived soon enough to support Liffey's assessment, but she barely noticed by then. The shock of seeing the bold colors of Three in comparison to the more muted tones of One and Two was a distraction. Liffey wedged Three between the others to better be able to marvel at her before curling herself around them and nudging them to her belly. She grimaced as they began to tug at her, finding it not at all pleasant and a little annoying. She began to wonder how long they would do this to her (only a couple of days, surely??) as her stomach cramped again and she was up for another round.

Four was a battle of stamina. Liffey paced around her newborns, panting so hard she figured her lungs were likely to rattle out of her chest at any moment. Tears began to stream down her cheeks as despair threatened to take her over this last one as she struggled and struggled to get this one out of her. Either it really did NOT want to cooperate, or she was simply too weak from exhaustion for this fight. Regardless, Liffey knew that giving up was not an option. Even when she decided to just let the little jerk stay inside of her and collapse next to her GOOD children, she was up again shortly. Four was coming out, whether either of them liked it or not.

When finally, FINALLY, the last little wolf arrived, Liffey breathed a gratified cry. A son. A son for her mate. She smiled then, not really understanding until just then how desperate she'd been to give Rannoch a son. But there he was - small, warm, and perfect. A handsome little prince now cradled beside her three princesses. When Liffey tucked them against her this time, she knew there would be no more. And when they began to tug at her again, it somehow bothered her less. She grinned down at them for a moment before leaning in to give them another thorough grooming, wanting them to look perfect for when she eventually called their papa in to come meet them.

I BORNDED YOUS EARLY @Wisteria @Remi @Breccan and DJ when you gots an account

Three was having none of being born.

She came into the world in hysterics, wailing with supremely strong lungs from the moment she was released from her landing pod. She was utterly inconsolable, even after Liffey had cleaned her and warmed her and set her down in the place where food flowed freely. She nursed for a precious couple of seconds before she was crying again. What have you done to me! her screwed up features seemed to scream. The womb had been cozy and wonderful, and the den floor was a far cry from that.

She continued to wail, whimper and fuss until the flame of her energy sputtered and went out completely and she fell into a fitful sleep between her sisters.

If you asked Four, he would tell you that he wasn't actually the fourth puppy to be born; he was the first son, which made him One.

Maybe it was this innate knowledge that made his birth such a struggle for his mother. Perhaps he put the brakes on, resisting nature's call and the instincts and muscles that propelled him forward. It was really unclear as to why he had been so difficult for Liffey, but either way, he lost whatever battle he was trying to fight and was expelled into the world alongside his three sisters.

He gave a little grunt, but didn't have much time to protest the change in atmosphere; before he could really process his new habitat, he had been moved into prime nursing position. Without thinking, he latched onto a teat and began to suckle, content -- for now -- with his lot in life.

One (keep dreamin', Four), the runt, the littlest of the littles, was born without fuss and complaint. She wriggled and squeaked softly as her mother bathed her and scooted her towards a teat, which she nursed on tenderly and peacefully. That was until her mother birthed her siblings. Throughout the event, One's squeaks rose and fell in volume and ranged through a spectrum of emotion, including fear, worry, and panic. She reacted most strongly to the arrival of Three, breaking out into desperate cries and worming around, distressed and seemingly unable to get comfortable. Gradually, her wails waned to wimpers, and she too fell asleep among her family, occasionally squeaking squirming to the activity of her siblings.

Rannoch's vigil had lasted much longer than he had anticipated, and he did anything and everything that he could to pass the time. There were instances during his extended watch that he had to actively combat his temptation to return to Liffey's side. The sonances that Rannoch heard did very little for his conviction, and he found himself amidst his temptation and concern for a majority of his time outside. 

There was a moment in which Rannoch heard One's voice for this first time, and instantaneously, he was drawn to the mouth of the den. A warmth settled within his heart and, for a brief and fleeting moment, he was soothed. They had at least one living child. 

The process of Rannoch peeking into the den and then returning to his guard repeated with each reoccurrence of hearing each of his children's voice for the first time. He only lingered at the entryway as his wife's cry accompanied Four's arrival. Although Liffey's bay had been jubilant, Rannoch couldn't help but feel concerned.

"Liffey?" he called hesitantly, "Are you okay?" He then paused briefly and attempted to locate his children at her side. "And are they okay?"