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+--- Thread: Silver Creek The witching hour (/showthread.php?tid=17824)
The witching hour - Rowan Mayfair - September 17, 2016
She knew it was coming. The entire world had brought it to her attention and Rowan retreated to her den in the early morning hours. She labored long and hard, at times worrying over the utter silence of the den itself and her spirits sagged. She wished for someone - anyone - to be with her. Casmir and Laika were far from home and she did not wish to call anyone else. She considered Shrike, far away no doubt in the Caldera, but he had not come to see her since they day they'd met.
As her labor progressed and the pains grew stronger she thought of Lasher, his gentle touches and soothing presence. When she felt she could do no more she felt a presence with her, still and quiet and aground her. It felt like tongues, soft and stroking over her, supporting her through. "Taltos," Rowan gasped, knowing he was there for their children to bring them earthside with her.
The pains increased, her stomach churning again and she bore down, supported by the figure at her side. If anyone could see her, foolish enough to approach her now, they would see nothing but the laboring female. She knew better though. The first figure that emerged was white, the slightest hint of color upon his shoulders. "@Cortland She gasped out, quickly removing the puppy from his sac and started to clean him. Before she had much of a chance to properly soothe him there was another wave of pain and the urge to push began again. This figure was a ruddy color, a little girl, and she was cleaned and slid towards a teat to suckle. "@Mona," she whispered and knew that she would have no more puppies to pass.
There was still the after birth to pass and she groomed her children, still panting with the efforts of bringing life to her young. Everything was worth it though. No matter the pain and what had happened to her, they were worth it.
RE: The witching hour - Cortland - September 18, 2016
his world was one of warm silence, the cadence of his mother's heartbeat setting the tone for his early life. he existed in the space between her ribs, and yet his presence was one of unreality. he did not breathe; therefore he did not exist. he did not live, not until the violence of constricting pressures grasped the babe. the child thrashed, fearful, shoved along a narrow passage that molded him, wrenched him, wrought from him a first cry.
air struck his lungs and he gagged upon it, screaming again in terror and the seedlings of rage. again! and again! venting his confusion and anger upon the waking world, until a great warm muzzle descended and wiped the gore of birth from him. despite himself, the boy relaxed, unfurling beneath her cleaning kiss, and swung his tiny blind head in the direction of the milk.
cortland.
RE: The witching hour - Rowan Mayfair - September 19, 2016
Oh her heart had never heard anything so beautiful as his cries! Even in his quiet fury Rowan smiled down upon her boy, nosing gently over him with tender, steady motions. She cleaned him and pulled him to her breast, tongue drifting down his tiny body before she turned her attentions to her daughter. "My sweets," She whispered softly, lowering her head down to watch the pair of them. They could not have looked more different than one another. She still did not know who it was that Mona resembled and yet her little jewel was loved all the same. Perhaps there was a family member that had come through in her coat. "Grow strong, my loves." She murmured tiredly, but she dared not close her eyes - she could not dream of anything more beautiful than the vision in front of her.
RE: The witching hour - Mona - September 19, 2016
Sorry it took me so long! Kidney stones had put me out of commission for the past week or so.
Mona Antha Mayfair, while she did no know it, was a fighter from the moment of birth. She breathed -- foreign breath filling her tiny lungs before she made a loud, discontented shriek. Blindly, she writhed and squirmed for supremacy over her first born brother, all in the name of survival. She knew not love or compassion, those things would come in time, yet instinctually, she knew of the life-giving milk from her mother's breast for which she vied for position as if there could only be one winner.
She felt the warmth of her mother's touch and so Mona dragged herself toward the source with clumsy limbs. After an eternity of wriggling around, her muzzle met with a body. Her brother, Courtland. Mistaking his front paw for her mother's teat, Mona wrapped her gums around it and began to suckle in a misguided effort to feed.
RE: The witching hour - Rowan Mayfair - September 19, 2016
my sister has dealt with those for years, they're terrible! hope you're feeling better!
Rowan watched Mona with interest, her gaze drifting across her ruddy daughter fondly even as she wailed. A breathy laugh left her throat as the girl latched onto her brother's paw instead and Rowan slowly lifted her, pulling her hold free before arranging her again. The pale wolf assisted her daughter, guiding her to a teat so that she could watch the pair of them as they filled their stomachs. She felt oddly deflated, as if she had a great deal less to her - and in truth, she did. The afterbirth had come and she had set to the grim work of cleaning herself up but she felt exhausted and tired and yet amazed. It was just the beginning of course, and there was still so many chances to falter, but, she adored the tiny babies at her side and it all seemed worth it.
RE: The witching hour - Cortland - September 22, 2016
<3
he did not know his name, only felt the vibrations of the sounds around him reverberate through his tiny body. instinctively he pushed with his small hindlegs toward the great warm presence nearby, seeking the protection and sustenance he was sure to find. his blunt muzzle nosed into her fur, and then his tiny mouth opened to latch onto a nipple.
or so he would have, had not the closing of mona's jaws around his paw distracted him. cortland gave a frustrated wail, clumsily attempting to pull his limb from his sister's toothless mouth.
RE: The witching hour - Mona - October 02, 2016
What felt like a discontented and unbecoming shriek passed Mona's lips. However, to anyone listening, it sounded more like a barely audible peep. No matter how hard she tried, Courtland's paw gave no sustenance. Mona bit down harder with her soft gums in frustration, but Courtland's paw was soon wrenched from her mouth. Left with nothing, Mona's mouth opened and closed to no avail.
From there, she writhed blindly until her mother swept her up and placed her into position at her breast. Finally, after a few frustrated moments of rooting around, Mona latched on to a nipple and refused to ever let go.
RE: The witching hour - Rowan Mayfair - October 13, 2016
"My loves," She whispered softly as she curled herself on her side, exhausted and worn but ultimately happy. She waited until the children seemed settled, her eyes finally growing heavy even as she watched the two and the steady rise and fall of their chests. She couldn't have kept herself awake any longer and her dreams were of a happier life - one where Lasher got to see his children, growing proud of and free among his forest.
The reality she was offered was one less perfect, but still, so real. She'd love her children enough for both of their parents, even if one was not present to offer the love she knew he would have given to his youngest and final children.