Wolf RPG

The next few days were some of the hardest she'd encountered in her life, and Maia was extremely lucky that she had Eljay and Sylvie and Hymnal.

For their sake, she had to take care of herself at least a little. When Eljay brought her food she ate at least some of it, knowing that she needed to keep the children healthy. If she didn't have that to hold onto, and if she didn't have Eljay, she didn't know where she'd be. Even with them, it felt like she was in danger of disappearing entirely.

She stared listlessly at the den entrance, light filtering in. She didn't know what time it was, she'd woken up shortly before and hadn't gotten up yet. She felt one of her daughters rooting against her and closed her eyes, taking a breath. She felt nauseous.

She didn't have much to give them right now, or Eljay. She'd barely spoken to him, even though she knew he was hurting too. The guilt of that was just another thing on the pile she was drowning under. She didn't have any more tears in her, just emptiness right now.

You're a terrible wife and a worse mom. You told him it wasn't a big deal. You told him to just remember the good times. But Wraen's gone now, and guess what? You don't get to do that because you haven't been there. You were too busy. You deserve this.

Something had changed. Though she couldn't see or hear Maia, Sylvie felt her mother's grief.  There was a palpable sadness in the air, and Sylvie disliked the feeling of it. It was almost like the feeling of an empty, grumbling stomach—but much worse than any hunger that she had ever felt. She had never experienced anything like this; her short life had been so easy so far.

She wriggled uneasily under the weight of the grief, seeking comfort. She turned to food, recognizing the temporary comfort that it provided. It combatted the emptiness—but only temporarily.

Latching on and sucking, Sylvie began to nurse, her paws gently poking and prodding Maia's belly.

When she was left to spiral, Maia was usually pretty good at drawing the conclusion that everyone around her would be better off if she just weren't around right now. Like somehow she was the problem and not the same gaping hole of grief that she was feeling.

But it was impossible to argue that about the tiny paws that were now kneading into the fur of her stomach. If she weren't around, they couldn't be either. Maia stayed where she was and kept her eyes closed, trying to focus on that and only that, but it was hard. Every time she did, she just thought of how happy she'd been. How excited she was to show them to her.

And the guilt that maybe, if she hadn't been so distracted...

Maia opened her eyes and lifted her head a bit, turning to look at them. Sylvie with her white little Eljay nose working away, Hymnal tucked up further down. She looks like Terance, Maia realized with a slight intake of breath, and suddenly was threatening tears all over again. It didn't matter how much she regretted not getting more time in, she couldn't bring herself to regret them.

I'm sorry. She said softly, bringing her head back down so that she could watch them both. They couldn't hear her yet, but it wasn't entirely to them either.

She continued to eat, already past the point of satiation. Her stomach began to expand, and it tightened as it attempted to accommodate the large portion that Sylvie had consumed. She felt physically ill when she stopped; the corners of her mouth and her chest were wet with the remnants of milk, and her sweet little face was twisted, indicating that something was wrong.

Lazily, she rolled onto her side. There wasn't much more that she could do in this food coma, especially when she felt as bad as she did. Her belly protruded further than it usually did, just barely reaching past her elbows.

Sylvie wiggled then, seeking the comfort of their nest's bedding with a pig-like grunt. Had she known what a pig was, she would have likened her experience to feeling like one.

She watched Sylvie eat without much attention. Maybe if she closed her eyes she could just go back to sleep. When she slept she didn't have to think about any of this, she didn't have to feel any of this.

A puppy whimper made her focus, though, and she caught Sylvie's scrunched face before she tried to burrow down. Oh, honey, she murmured, you feeling sick?

Softly she began grooming her little sides, front to back, and going for the belly. Hopefully it would help her to work out whatever needed to happen.

Sylvie felt herself relax as Maia began to groom her, even though the discomfort remained. Her tight expression lessened and was substituted with a smile; the gentle, rhythmic strokes were a welcomed distraction. She gurgled and cooed, voicing her appreciation and pleasure. As she grew more relaxed, her tiny little legs stretched every which way.

She was beginning to feel tired, but she fought it; she wanted to enjoy the grooming for a bit longer. Sylvie yawned again, her jaws widening into an emoji-like grin.

They were so cute, she couldn't stand it.  She felt Hymnal shift next to her and re-adjusted more comfortably to laying, legs stretched out.  Then she reached out a paw and pulled Sylvie slightly closer, pressing the bridge of her nose to the girl's back and affectionately ruffling the fur. 

I love you, she said, then picked up where she left off on the grooming.  If she kept it up she knew she'd fall asleep and hopefully her little tum would feel better after a nap.

 

Sylvie squeaked, startled by the sudden motion, as Maia pulled her closer. She was quick to get her bearings—she was safe, and she was being comforted. Sylvie would not hear what Maia said, but she felt her mother's love. Sylvie soon fell asleep, cuddling into her mom with a hearty yawn. Although she had still felt the pressure and discomfort of overeating, both Maia had helped tremendously.

Sylvie would wake up later, feeling better, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—refereshed and ready for more discoveries.