Wolf RPG

For @Tuwawi

With Jace's help, the deerskin came away from its owner quicker and cleaner than Bazi could ever have hoped. She left it to dry by the creek, gnawing and scratching at the stubborn flecks of flesh that refused to accept that they no longer belonged there.

After a few days of work, the present was ready. The skin was clean, the fur was washed, and Bazi had worked out how to carry it alone by wriggling beneath the supple pelt and wearing it like a cape. The end result looked like a hairy, sagging pancake with white legs.

Tuwawi and Njal's den was only a short walk away from the one she shared with Ferdie. Bazi timed her visit with early morning, hoping that pregnancy kept the red woman in bed beyond the crack of dawn. She shrugged the skin onto the ground, folded it in half as best she could, and woofed gently into the mouth of the den. "Tuwawi?"

Going to make this current if that's ok! :o mostly to make her appear at 3-4 weeks preggos. Sorry for this lateness!

Indeed, Tuwawi's sleeping duty has been doubled as the growing life within her sapped their mother's energy like nothing else. That, coupled with a still-churning stomach, left the fireblood nearly incapacitated and den-ridden. Though she had hoped to be an asset to her pack in the first few weeks of her pregnancy, it had become clear this would not come to pass. Everything — it was all new, to the wolf who had until recently fancied herself the picture of youth and vitality. Times had changed. She had grown up. Now, new responsibilities heralded their arrival with a swift lurch of the gut... and there was nothing the she-wolf could do but be wracked by it.

Though her rest was deep, it was fleeting. Every now and then a change in her body wrenched the dozing wolf awake, only to be pacified moments later and allow a few more minutes of sleep. Today, she was tired, and the Sveijarn burrow had become a place of comfort and security. Njal sometimes laid with her, though he was usually off patrolling or hunting to feed the pack and his wife. When the shuffling of footprints echoed inside the den, Tuwawi's ears pricked, half-expecting the noises to belong to her husband. However, a distinctly feminine voice called. Tuwawi? it queried, beckoning the ember from her hiding place below the grove of beeches. At first, she did not stir... (thinking perhaps if I just laid here the voice will go away...) though on second thought, Tuwawi realize the voice to be Bazi's, and she immediately knew to care for this particular company.

"Mm?" she mummeled as Tuwawi's figure unfurled itself, slinking out the mouth of her carefully built home. Though the changes in her figure were small, they were visible. Her once narrow trunk had thickened, and the small of her belly had become rounded in a suspicious place. Her sooty tail swished between her hocks, pleased to see her pale pack-sister had the mind to pay her a visit. Grey eyes lingered on the heaping pelt at her feet before flickering back to Bazi's youthful face. "Bazi... hi," she said, taking a seat outside the entrance to her den, "what brings you this way?"

Tuwawi was slow to emerge - first her head, still dusted with sleep, then a vibrant red ruff. Her shape had changed considerably since their last encounter, Bazi noticed. She was round and full, and it made her look both vulnerable and infinitely stronger. The youth had never known a pregnant wolf personally, having been born in the last of her parents' numerous litters.

"Present for you," she replied, smiling almost shyly. There was something maternal about the way Tuwawi conducted herself, even before the seeds in her belly had taken root, that made Bazi regress. The youth moved to the front of the folded skin, grabbed it between her teeth and shuffled - bum first - toward the Creek's first mother. "To line the den, for you and the pups," she explained when the two females were side by side. The skin was large, and had been lifted from its owner with great care - there was barely a single hole, and the pelt had been thoroughly cleaned.

It was a funny thing... the image of age and maternity. To Tuwawi, she still felt like that lost youth sprawled across one of Seahawk's cliff sides, or the roguish and scrappy urchin in Kindred's ranks. How bizarre it was to be on the flip side of age... three years old and entering the prime of her life with a mate at her side and children along the way. Never did she think such rich fortunes would be hers, especially coming from a childhood so rife with misery. Tuwawi knew, as well, to keep those important to her close... and Bazi was swiftly becoming a dear friend to the ember. Connections like these were the lifeblood to any family circle.

Tuwawi's face glowed when Bazi revealed her present. It was fine gift; a handsome pelt carefully extracted with the finest craftsmanship... and honestly, she had never laid eyes on anything like it. No one had ever though to preserve the skin in such a way... to provide warmth and comfort for the growing mother and her children-to-be. Truly, it was a generous offering, and her head canted as she admired it. "Bazi... this is wonderful. It is too much," she gushed to the alabaster youth, wondering how many hours had gone into its preparation. It would be worlds more comfortable than the prickly hay from Wapun Meadow that currently lined her home.

"Thank you... it means a lot," she finally submitted, at a loss for better words to express the true gratitude she felt. Gingerly, she swept her branded muzzle through Bazi's mane, finding comfort in her presence. "I am sure the children will love it too... they grow every day," a wry grin suggested uncertainty within her tone regarding the development of the unborn resting within her body. Everything was new to the fireblood, and every act of thoughtfulness from her pack mates helped ease her troubles by a degree. A strange anxiety accompanied these physical changes and she could only hope everything was going alright according to nature's plan.

Bazi positively beamed, soaking up the woman's gratitude and affection. To be praised by Tuwawi felt important somehow, like receiving an honour or a precious gift - she couldn't say why; the expectant mother gave generously and often of her heart to those she considered family, and it was not a rare thing to be on the receiving end of a nuzzle or embrace. There was a raw fierceness to her that was just as vibrant when she had just woken up as it was mid-battle, and Bazi couldn't help but bask in that glow. Whatever it was - impending motherhood, the impossible good fortune of finding Njal again, surviving unimaginable journeys - it burned hot, and it burned bright.

"You deserve it - and they do too," the youth enthused, feeling a warmth spread from the very tips of her toes to the peaks of her ears. "What does it feel like, to carry them? Are they.. heavy? Do they move?" She turned to glance at Tuwawi's rounded belly, partially disguised by her seated position. A faint flicker of longing touched her own heart when she thought of the perfect little family that would soon inhabit the den - eighteen pups and two proud, wonderful parents.

Bazi

Tuwawi RIP

Bazi

Tuwawi RIP

Bazi