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the bird and the bee [m] - Olive - March 08, 2017
It was a full moon when Olive woke with a start.
The fae had always nurtured a lovely relationship with moon and its phalanx of stars, but there was something divine about a full moon. The sensual push-pull of the heavens, which formed the tide that built the shoreline to the south and carved the cliffs to the north, held the same sort of dominion over the creamy shewolf’s body and spirit. The sun and the moon — the two lovers, set in opposition of each other, sparked and lighted the heavens and brought newness to the lands. Long ago, the druid had learned to be receptive to the discarnate energies of the universe; to be a witness of what power laid beyond their little pocket of the universe — so when the moon hung heavy and sonorous in the sky and when lunar energy was at its apogee, the invigoration was difficult to ignore. Just as the moon flowed effortlessly through its cycles, so did all of creation on earth and so did the mother-to-be from one stage of her life to the next. In this way, Olive was reminded of nature itself; that her humble existence was just a small part of something cosmically [much] larger than herself.
It was this thought that danced through her mind as she felt a fresh tugging low in her belly. The full moon’s energies were distinctly tender and feminine [contrasted by the strong, masculine vibrations of the sun] and the womanly moonbeams danced upon the slate floor of her and Dakarai’s grotto. The openness of their sanctuary allowed Olive to be bathed in the moonlight and she stirred from her fitful sleep, the cosmic waves cajoling and coaxing her into wakefulness. A new bought of restless rushed into the limbs and the lamb lifted her head, mind peculiarly clear for having been awoken in the dead of the night by her parturient belly.
Olive’s eyes were strong during the night, but the luminous moon provided a gentle backlight that made her wooded surroundings seem to glow. It was spring, just as Dakarai had hoped. Father Winter had taken his leaved and the dreadful snows long sing abated — and with it, some of the memories of the horrors of the season. Much like how winter gave way to the spring season, the quicksilver fae’s wounds had knitted and closed. Though there was lingering pain in her twisted ankle and several of her deeper incisions, it was not those hurts that captured her attention at that moment. As a wave of discomfort rippled across her belly, Olive rolled from her side and pushed herself up onto her elbows, jaw slacked yet eyes alert. The woman had felt contractions before, but they had all been false. Perhaps this, too, was a false alarm… but much as she did every time she experienced disquiet [especially at the hands of her pregnancy], Olive sought relief and comfort from her mate. “Dak?” pressing her nose into his side, hoping to rouse her dark knight from his slumber.
Set for the full moon on 3/12! Getting this shindig started early, so that O&D can get a few posts in first :D
Tagging the puppies for awareness now (i’ll tag again when they are actually born)
@Dakarai @Sirius @Aries @Cassiopeia
Tagging the puppies for awareness now (i’ll tag again when they are actually born)
@Dakarai @Sirius @Aries @Cassiopeia
RE: the bird and the bee - Dakarai - March 08, 2017
He was awake as soon as she stirred, his blue eyes sleepily watching her with curiosity. The way the moon's light hit her fur had him awestruck, his eyes geedily drinking the sight in. When she nudhed him he pretended to wake up, even adding in a startled jolt of his body before he lifted his head "Olive, Is everything alright? are they being active again?" he asked with sincere concern.
For the last few days Olive had awoken beside him with contractions, though they always turned out to be false. Something in the air seemed off tonight though, so he gave Olive his full attention. Sitting up quickly he brought his nose to her cheek and ran it along the soft fur, before placing a comforting kiss on her ear. "Remember to breath. If it is to be tonight that is the most vital thing to remember" he said calmly though on the inside his heart was racing with excitment and worry. Should he go get Lotte and Arturo? What if something went wrong with the birth, he wasn't knowledgable with medicines!
Moving close and pressing his flank against hers, he looked at her with eager and slightly fearful eyes. On her word he would get ready to prepare for the birth, gathering the grass and feather he had stashed in the back of their den almogst Olive's many treasures.
RE: the bird and the bee - Olive - March 08, 2017
Her ebon husband jarred awake and immediately inquired after how she was feeling. His caresses were welcome and most comforting. The split second between when she nudged him and when he awakened [almost as if he had been conscious the entire time] had felt like an eon — and during that eon, her demure sense of trust in the universe’s energies yielded to cold apprehension. With the last pain, it became clear that her time had come. Though the fae had watched her belly grow and the lives within her womb flourish, it had all seemed such a fantasy — until that very moment. These babes [their children!], their lives were entirely dependent upon her. Well, Dakarai was there of course but motherhood was a special experience. What if she messed up? What if she was going to a bad mother? Her pregnancy had gone so fast, but their conception felt as if it was years ago. Olive hadn’t much time to prepare; to soak up the experience of motherhood before it was motherhood; to learn everything there was to know about pup rearing! So much had happened since their romp upon the sunspire… and the strong emotions that tinged the past several months muddied her sense of time. It was a time that had been so long, yet so short. so lovely yet so horrific. it created expansion as much as it created reduction, in both the physical and metaphysical senses. It was all so uncertain, but there was one thing she was certain of…
She wasn’t ready.
Her heart thump thump thumped, though there was no pleasure in this quickened pace. Olive leaned into his touch and rocked her head against his, hoping to work out some of the restlessness she felt in her body and soul. This wasn’t something she could run from, the lamb thought as another small pain shot through her abdomen. The pups were coming whether she was ready or not, and she would be forever changed because of it. Such a drastic upheaval was suddenly quite scary to mother-to-be — but perhaps Dakarai would be ready enough for the both of them. He already fathered puppies before, knew how this all went. Olive trusted him implicitly and found great comfort in his nearness. He was to be her shepherd. He knew what to do. With jade eyes, large and swimming in the moonlight, she pulled at the ground and crawled her rounded, petite form to close to gap between them. She tucked her visage in the velveteen fur that lined his collar, as she always did when she felt ungrounded and uncertain. She was safe here, in this spot upon his neck. Here, her reckless ways could never put their children in danger again. “I’m scared.” she whispered into him.
RE: the bird and the bee - Dakarai - March 09, 2017
"It is always scary my dear. Lie upon your side, and rest your head on my paws" he responded with as much calm and assurance as he could master. Looking around he knew he would need some help from someone, though who to call he did not know. "Olive dear, we need some help from Someone who knows healing. Does Lotte know enough?' he cooed the question soothingly into her ears,his tongue slipping out to rasp against her neck slowly.
ugh so sorry! Im on mobile
RE: the bird and the bee - Olive - March 10, 2017
No sooner had Dakarai spoke his words than another contraction, strong than the waves she experienced before it, gripped her midsection. Olive could not hide her discomfort and grimaced sharply at the pain, biting her lip and sucking in a shallow breath. It was the exact opposite reaction Dakarai had requested of her [did he not just tell her to breathe? and did nothing to dull the sudden biting pain. For many seconds did she stay that way, clawing the ground and clenching her jaws together, but eventually the tension subsided, leaving a somewhat disoriented Olive in its wake. She picked up her head to look at her king, so calm and so reassuring — and promptly laid her crown against onyx paws, shifting her body so that she lay laterally. Olive worried that she was laboring too fast, that her body was working much too efficiently and was not taking the time to complete the task flawlessly; but as she laid with her head upon her husband’s paws, she conceded herself to the will of the celestial bodies that twinkled above them and bathed the two in a soft, warm light. The feminine, lunar energies were at their most potent that night and would strengthen her for the efforts to come. She only needed to trust in it and all would be well.
Then, Dakarai suggested calling for Lotte; an idea of which almost threw Olive into another self-impose contraction. “No,” she spoke softly — but the promptness of her response gave it an air of finality. She did not wish to announce to the entire forest that she was in the middle of such an… intimate experience. Teaghlaigh was no longer a minuscule family group but boasted rather impressive numbers — but many had remained strangers during her convalescence and preparations. The family would know eventually, but the birth was just for them— for this reason, the lamb was adamant that no one else be in close proximity; most of all, not her Banrion. Olive had felt an immediate liking towards the expecting queen, but the scarfed woman was one with the man who spoke such acrid threats… and though Teaghlaigh’s numbers had improved drastically since the omen, the visit from Blackfeather Woods was still carved so freshly in their minds. The mother loathed to think of the potential consequences and she desired greatly to keep the reality of their situation at bay as long as possible. No, her children would not be buffeted with such negativity upon their entrance into the world; at least she could do that much for them. “Just you.” the dove spoke, wishing him to believe as she did: the moon would ensure a healthy delivery. But if it didn’t…. “One who healed us— she promised she would stay close. If something should go wrong, call for her. Carina.” Olive’s mind flickered back to that night several weeks ago [or was it years?] with the wayfaring healer. What an interesting soul, Olive mused for a moment and decided that she would actually love the sheepdog to eventually meet her new family.
Olive rubbed her head against Dakarai’s paws, loving his reassuring presence. Most stories of pup-having spun tales of women gnashing their teeth and driving the fathers from the den, but such instincts had yet to find the docile Olive. Rather, she wished for her dark knight to stay and be part of this. It was a beautiful thing, and even though her labor was fast paced it was still new and thus far… not as bad as she had imagined it might be. But there was one hushed thought that continually plagued her: “What if I hurt them again, my love? What if I’m a bad mother?”
RE: the bird and the bee - Dakarai - March 10, 2017
"Breathe" The command came out sharper this time, more urgent though his tone was still full of love. Olive refused his suggestion for Lotte, but instead mentioned the other. The sheepdog with the timid nature. With a quick nod of understanding he lay beside her, resting his head on her back so that there was always a connection. She spoke of what if's of being a bad mother and the words drew him up short, a soft growl of disbelief leaving his maw "Never speak of such things. The world has tested us both to make sure we are good parents, and we made it through each one. You will do amazing my love, they will adore their mother. You will be their light through whatever life throws us all." He spoke with one hundred percent certainty, his words falling quickly from his lips.
Her laboring was swift, though the contractions seemed to be of normal pain if not lesser than what Oxsana had been through. His old lover had screamed to the heavens so loudly that the birds flew from the trees. For a quick second he swore he heard Oxsana's quick laughter before it disappeared, a similar occurance to when he had no memory. It brought a feeling of peace, and he knew she was gone for good. "You're doing fine my sweet, Deep slow breaths. Inhale" he inhaled slowly to demonstrate before exhaling loudly and quickly "and exhale. On my command you will push my dear. It will hurt but you will make it through, just like everything else." he murmured softly.
RE: the bird and the bee [m] - Olive - March 11, 2017
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Dakarai spoke the exact words she wanted to hear and his smooth baritone assuaged the discomfort that gripped her belly. Olive wasn’t convinced of his word’s truthfulness, however, as the lamb still wasn’t certain she had it in her to raise a proper family. She was much too wild, much too flighty, much too self sacrificing to be of any use to father or child. After all, did she not wreck so much havoc upon the lives of those she loved most — completely unintentionally? How could Olive have felt so in the right, when she actually had been so in the wrong? The lamb had much to learn, but she did not desire the [seemingly inevitable] baptism by fire. She could not, would not, let her children pay the price for her disregard.
Perhaps Arturo would find them in the morning and dispatch her forthwith. When the Blackfeather Fuckers turned up just a few days ago, he had seemed angry enough; and, up until now, she had been able to skirt around the realities of their situation. With somber tears clouding her eyes, peered up at the motherly moon [which sat so heavy in the saturated sky] and whispered a hushed chant, delicately appealing the celestial body for its guidance. Almost as if in response another contraction gripped her and a skating whine leaked from her maw, her legs tensing and drawing towards her belly in discomfort. Suddenly [and despite Dakarai’s suggestion push] the colleen decided that she could lay no longer and Olive muscled her laboring body up onto thin, unsteady limbs. Slowly she ambled in circles around the clearing that entrenched their den, paws dragging methodically against the stone floor. The carpet of fresh leaves and feathers lay just inside the grotto’s entrance, but Olive much preferred the cool air against the heat of her body, working hard to create life.
Soon this churning heat would slick her sides with sweat and Olive would realize the true pain of childbirth — and until that happened, the young mother remained somewhat composed. Olive would never be able to say how many hours this went on, as her sole focus that moment was listening to the tune body and receiving the instructions the moon communicated through the pattens of its dappled moonlight; it distorted all time and all thoughts and she could not even form words to speak with Dakarai, so withdrawn and connected with her body was she. Led by her instincts, Olive went from pacing to standing still, then she tried squatting but eventually ended up in Dakarai’s arms once more — and when Dakarai told her to push, she pushed; and when Dakarai told her to breathe, she breathed; and when her body told her to yell out, she yelled out; and when her instincts told her to reach down and greet her newborn baby, well, she did just that.
The actual moment her nose touched her firstborn son was singlehandedly the best moment of Olive’s life: better than willing Teaghlaigh into existence, better than falling in love, better than seeing Dakarai on her doorstep, better than her heat and better than pulling her husband back from the brink of anonymity. Gently, the mother pressed her nares against the pup and breathed in its sweet scent — the cub smelled distinctly hers and immediately her heart swelled. Her tail thump thump thumped behind her, hitting against Dakarai in unabated joy. Immediately, she set to cleaning the babe and when she made to pull it up to her front paws, Olive realized that there was not one but two cubs! Her joy doubled and with gusto she situated the two pups between her paws, utterly forgetting all of the pain that had consumed her moments before. Her tongue made quick work of cleaning the babes and further inspection yielded that they were both boys, both of heather grey fur… twins. The lamb cradled the two, mewling pups in her arms and literally just stared at them for a while in disbelief — her love had never known such depths.
Olive nuzzled into Dakarai and allowed the father to welcome his children, his sons. The four were only allowed a moment’s respite before Olive felt another tug low in her belly, signaling more were to come. The mother ignored the contractions for a while, far too enamored with her sons to possibly think of focusing on anything else — and Olive regretted to part with her sons for even a moment, but there was the promise of more babies to love and Olive could think of nothing she wanted more than more babies. The twins were pushed to her stomach and again she labored; she operated completely off of motherly intuition, which turned out to be very strong in the pale seraph. Pain was there but not felt: the euphoria of birth had already worked its magic upon the new mother and she felt invincible, incredible and strong. Considerate of the wonderful bundles that tugged at her belly, Olive gingerly and gracefully birthed her third and last pup. This babe, too, was pulled forth and held between Olive’s small paws as her skilled tongue went to work. It was small and a spitting image of its father — and a lovely, little girl. Tenderly, their daughter was placed at her breast and began to nurse quite vigorously for having just been born.
The sun peeked over the tips of the bleeding timbers, illuminating the scene and allowing the parents to look at their living, breathing children. What they had fought so hard for. Dakarai was back — something she had fought so hard for. In completely bliss and satisfaction, the new mother leaned back into Dakarai and let out one bone-weary breath. This was it. Screw everything else in life that was not this!
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Perhaps Arturo would find them in the morning and dispatch her forthwith. When the Blackfeather Fuckers turned up just a few days ago, he had seemed angry enough; and, up until now, she had been able to skirt around the realities of their situation. With somber tears clouding her eyes, peered up at the motherly moon [which sat so heavy in the saturated sky] and whispered a hushed chant, delicately appealing the celestial body for its guidance. Almost as if in response another contraction gripped her and a skating whine leaked from her maw, her legs tensing and drawing towards her belly in discomfort. Suddenly [and despite Dakarai’s suggestion push] the colleen decided that she could lay no longer and Olive muscled her laboring body up onto thin, unsteady limbs. Slowly she ambled in circles around the clearing that entrenched their den, paws dragging methodically against the stone floor. The carpet of fresh leaves and feathers lay just inside the grotto’s entrance, but Olive much preferred the cool air against the heat of her body, working hard to create life.
Soon this churning heat would slick her sides with sweat and Olive would realize the true pain of childbirth — and until that happened, the young mother remained somewhat composed. Olive would never be able to say how many hours this went on, as her sole focus that moment was listening to the tune body and receiving the instructions the moon communicated through the pattens of its dappled moonlight; it distorted all time and all thoughts and she could not even form words to speak with Dakarai, so withdrawn and connected with her body was she. Led by her instincts, Olive went from pacing to standing still, then she tried squatting but eventually ended up in Dakarai’s arms once more — and when Dakarai told her to push, she pushed; and when Dakarai told her to breathe, she breathed; and when her body told her to yell out, she yelled out; and when her instincts told her to reach down and greet her newborn baby, well, she did just that.
The actual moment her nose touched her firstborn son was singlehandedly the best moment of Olive’s life: better than willing Teaghlaigh into existence, better than falling in love, better than seeing Dakarai on her doorstep, better than her heat and better than pulling her husband back from the brink of anonymity. Gently, the mother pressed her nares against the pup and breathed in its sweet scent — the cub smelled distinctly hers and immediately her heart swelled. Her tail thump thump thumped behind her, hitting against Dakarai in unabated joy. Immediately, she set to cleaning the babe and when she made to pull it up to her front paws, Olive realized that there was not one but two cubs! Her joy doubled and with gusto she situated the two pups between her paws, utterly forgetting all of the pain that had consumed her moments before. Her tongue made quick work of cleaning the babes and further inspection yielded that they were both boys, both of heather grey fur… twins. The lamb cradled the two, mewling pups in her arms and literally just stared at them for a while in disbelief — her love had never known such depths.
Olive nuzzled into Dakarai and allowed the father to welcome his children, his sons. The four were only allowed a moment’s respite before Olive felt another tug low in her belly, signaling more were to come. The mother ignored the contractions for a while, far too enamored with her sons to possibly think of focusing on anything else — and Olive regretted to part with her sons for even a moment, but there was the promise of more babies to love and Olive could think of nothing she wanted more than more babies. The twins were pushed to her stomach and again she labored; she operated completely off of motherly intuition, which turned out to be very strong in the pale seraph. Pain was there but not felt: the euphoria of birth had already worked its magic upon the new mother and she felt invincible, incredible and strong. Considerate of the wonderful bundles that tugged at her belly, Olive gingerly and gracefully birthed her third and last pup. This babe, too, was pulled forth and held between Olive’s small paws as her skilled tongue went to work. It was small and a spitting image of its father — and a lovely, little girl. Tenderly, their daughter was placed at her breast and began to nurse quite vigorously for having just been born.
The sun peeked over the tips of the bleeding timbers, illuminating the scene and allowing the parents to look at their living, breathing children. What they had fought so hard for. Dakarai was back — something she had fought so hard for. In completely bliss and satisfaction, the new mother leaned back into Dakarai and let out one bone-weary breath. This was it. Screw everything else in life that was not this!
welcome to the world <3 <3 <3 birth order is as follows, but there's no posting order! @Sirius, then @Aries and finally @Cassiopeia!
RE: the bird and the bee [m] - Sirius - March 11, 2017
The peace had been broken hours before Sirius came into the world. Something had jarred him from his rest, the rest that he'd enjoyed since first becoming aware that he was - that he was anything at all. And the whole thing had made him uneasy - more uneasy than when his mother ran or coughed or slept in a way that squished him against his fellows. More uneasy than the gut-wrenching fear that'd churned through her (him) on a night not too long ago. This was different. Something was changing.
And then everything shook and squeezed and moved, and then he was surrounded by something cold and bright and empty - and he squalled because wow! - but when all movement had ceased, and he laid squirming beside his fellows, Sirius decided that he was not wholly displeased by this new state of affairs.
Finally, things were getting exciting.
RE: the bird and the bee [m] - Dakarai - March 12, 2017
He remained still as she stood up and paced, recognizing it as something Oxsana had done as well. Eventually Olive came back to him and he held her close, marvelling at how little he had to instruct her on and how much she did on her own. Finally a babe popped out and he gasped, eyes wide and now brimming with moisture as a second child came into the world. Watching with awe and amazement and love, and so many different emotions he couldn't name he welcome them silently into the world.
As she groomed then her moved his muzzle to place his nose against their fur, breathing in the sweet baby scent of their wet slicked back fur. He felt hr muscles contract once more and turned his attention toward her lower body, not believing the miracle that there was yet another to come. A third popped free and he gave a small whine of amazement, as the fur was the color of his own. A child that looked like him! "You are perfect" he said to Olive, to Sirius,To Aries,To cassiopeia. They were perfect miracles, carrying on the Svartell bloodline with their sweet innocence. "I love you" this time the words were directed to his wife, his lover,his best friend,his ally, his everything.
RE: the bird and the bee [m] - Aries - March 12, 2017
It had been warm and cosy inside - it could not be doubted that for the first few moments after his birth, Aries had wished he could go back. He squealed and wriggled, but once he reached his mothers side, the boy fell silent for a moment. However this was soon broken once he became aware of a lump next to him. No, now two lumps - one either side of him. They were like him, weren't they? The ones who had been inside?
Aries decided to give a little test. He rolled his head and nudged first the one on his left, and then the one on his right. Would they move? The words spoken to him were not recognised, for the pup was still deaf and blind. He could not see, but he could feel. And he used this to reach his mother's teats. Eagerly the boy latched on and savoured the warm milk flowing from them.
RE: the bird and the bee [m] - Olive - March 12, 2017
Let’s assume they discussed names beforehand?
Also, opening this to all members of the family!
Also, opening this to all members of the family!
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With infatuated eyes the new mother leaned against her husband and watched as her husband greeted their children for the first time and then whispered sweet nothings into her hear; but Olives senses were all fuzzy, her brain shellacked by the rush of endorphins bespoke by the labor pains. The pain and discomfort of the night was easily forgotten, surrounded to the all-consuming joy that emanated from the small babes, tugging greedily at her breast and making those sweet baby sounds as they consumed their first meal [olive wondered how much milk actually reached their tiny little bellies, as they seemed to quite enjoy rolling the white liquid around on their tongue and letting it dribble it out the sides of their mouths]. When the dark night moved away Olive resumed her caresses, feeling their soft fur and minuscule little bone structure under her touch and wondering how on earth such innocence could possibly exist and be borne from her body. Later, the mother would remember this delivery as the single most deeply spiritual and moving experience of her life.
In her mind, Olive responded to Dakarai’s “I love you,” but her mouth refused to move. The seraph was at a loss for words in that moment — how could she possibly speak the pure, white light that she felt radiating from within? Like so many of their confessions of love, it was felt but not spoken. It settled on her like moondust, falling from the sky and cradling her in its divine purpose and scheme; but soon she realized it was not moondust but Dakarai’s arms that held her and caressed her sore body. Here, surrounded her three suckling babes and the love she almost lost thrice, she felt something more than love. She felt infinite.
As the sun continued to rise over the treetops, finally Olive found her tongue — but her words came not in forms of endearment, but about their children [for a moment, Olive wondered if she would ever be able to speak about anything but]. “Oh, my king” she breathed, her voice soft and featherlight — these were the first few words she had spoke since giving birth and her vocal chords were quite strangled from the effort of the whole thing — but she spoke anyways. “I cannot think of a single thing more perfect than this moment.” Her black rose reached up and rooted around for the pulse spot on her neck, hopefully assuaging any anxieties that may have plagued the new father. While mothers experienced the physical pains of child bearing, it was often the fathers who felt helpless and bore the brunt of the stress. “Thank you for giving this to me.” She nuzzled and sighed, knowing that Dakarai understood what she meant by it: your sacrifices made this all possible.
“Sirius” she said, licking milk from the muzzle of the largest boy — her firstborn. “Aries” was said of the second boy [a miniature version of his twin] who had come as such as surprise. “Cassiopeia” she christened the sole little girl. “Just like we spoke about.” They had names planned out for more; but three was the perfect number. Three perfect little heavy pups who still pulled eagerly at her teats. With the last of her strength, Olive let out one joyful little cry — a small howl which’s energy and message carried high over the bleeding timbers, hopefully reaching the ears of her friend Carina who promise to stay close [and giving the entirety of Teaghlaigh a de facto update about the events of the night before]. The litter and mother appeared to be fine and healthy, but Olive trusted the sharp mind of the sheepdog over all else and wanted her trained eye to assess the babes. After, Olive laid back upon Dakarai and let her eyelids slip shut as true exhaustion took hold of her; she would not sleep but rest with her eyes closed, ears trained for sounds of any others that might approach.
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In her mind, Olive responded to Dakarai’s “I love you,” but her mouth refused to move. The seraph was at a loss for words in that moment — how could she possibly speak the pure, white light that she felt radiating from within? Like so many of their confessions of love, it was felt but not spoken. It settled on her like moondust, falling from the sky and cradling her in its divine purpose and scheme; but soon she realized it was not moondust but Dakarai’s arms that held her and caressed her sore body. Here, surrounded her three suckling babes and the love she almost lost thrice, she felt something more than love. She felt infinite.
As the sun continued to rise over the treetops, finally Olive found her tongue — but her words came not in forms of endearment, but about their children [for a moment, Olive wondered if she would ever be able to speak about anything but]. “Oh, my king” she breathed, her voice soft and featherlight — these were the first few words she had spoke since giving birth and her vocal chords were quite strangled from the effort of the whole thing — but she spoke anyways. “I cannot think of a single thing more perfect than this moment.” Her black rose reached up and rooted around for the pulse spot on her neck, hopefully assuaging any anxieties that may have plagued the new father. While mothers experienced the physical pains of child bearing, it was often the fathers who felt helpless and bore the brunt of the stress. “Thank you for giving this to me.” She nuzzled and sighed, knowing that Dakarai understood what she meant by it: your sacrifices made this all possible.
“Sirius” she said, licking milk from the muzzle of the largest boy — her firstborn. “Aries” was said of the second boy [a miniature version of his twin] who had come as such as surprise. “Cassiopeia” she christened the sole little girl. “Just like we spoke about.” They had names planned out for more; but three was the perfect number. Three perfect little heavy pups who still pulled eagerly at her teats. With the last of her strength, Olive let out one joyful little cry — a small howl which’s energy and message carried high over the bleeding timbers, hopefully reaching the ears of her friend Carina who promise to stay close [and giving the entirety of Teaghlaigh a de facto update about the events of the night before]. The litter and mother appeared to be fine and healthy, but Olive trusted the sharp mind of the sheepdog over all else and wanted her trained eye to assess the babes. After, Olive laid back upon Dakarai and let her eyelids slip shut as true exhaustion took hold of her; she would not sleep but rest with her eyes closed, ears trained for sounds of any others that might approach.
RE: the bird and the bee [m] - Cassiopeia - March 12, 2017
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In the beginning, there was nothing.
The small pup, only a bundle of unconscious nerves and cells, was aware of nothing, felt nothing, knew nothing. The only sensation she was aware of a certain floating sensation, but it was incredibly soothing and for the most part, the girl drifted in a still, dreamless state — until everything changed.
Almost immediately the unknowing cub was thrust into a world that was much more… sensational than she had ever known. She felt so many things that she had never encountered before; couldn’t even imagine these possibilities! There was the rush of oxygen in her lungs and her mother’s harsh tongue — it was strong against her infinitesimal frame. There were the muffled voice of her father and the feeling of her small chest rising and falling with each breath and it was all so strange that she couldn’t help but cry out! This was too new! She wanted back in, where it was warm and reality was suspended. Yeah, that had been nice.
The onyx girl squalled and pushed against the tongues and noses that prodded her endlessly, but before she knew it the probing muzzles yielded to something much greater than all of them: the need to nurse. A nipple was offered and without hesitation the cub fastened her small, mewling mouth around it and she tugged and pulled until she found what her instincts told her was right...milk. it was thick and coated her tongue in an ultimately pleasing way — but while she easily figured out how to pull the milk into her mouth, swallowing was another thing entirely. It seemed her muscles of her throat had yet to waken, so the liquid pulled into her mouth but dribbled pathetically out the sides of her mouth, which was held wide open via her mother’s nipple. Soon her entire muzzle, neck and chest were covered in the stuff and sure she wasn’t really nursing but did the dark girl care? Goodness, no! The simple act of suckling felt so real, felt so right, that she resigned herself to a life of this: drinking and feasting against the wriggling masses of her brothers, who were both doing the same exact thing.
[/td][/tr][/table]
The small pup, only a bundle of unconscious nerves and cells, was aware of nothing, felt nothing, knew nothing. The only sensation she was aware of a certain floating sensation, but it was incredibly soothing and for the most part, the girl drifted in a still, dreamless state — until everything changed.
Almost immediately the unknowing cub was thrust into a world that was much more… sensational than she had ever known. She felt so many things that she had never encountered before; couldn’t even imagine these possibilities! There was the rush of oxygen in her lungs and her mother’s harsh tongue — it was strong against her infinitesimal frame. There were the muffled voice of her father and the feeling of her small chest rising and falling with each breath and it was all so strange that she couldn’t help but cry out! This was too new! She wanted back in, where it was warm and reality was suspended. Yeah, that had been nice.
The onyx girl squalled and pushed against the tongues and noses that prodded her endlessly, but before she knew it the probing muzzles yielded to something much greater than all of them: the need to nurse. A nipple was offered and without hesitation the cub fastened her small, mewling mouth around it and she tugged and pulled until she found what her instincts told her was right...milk. it was thick and coated her tongue in an ultimately pleasing way — but while she easily figured out how to pull the milk into her mouth, swallowing was another thing entirely. It seemed her muscles of her throat had yet to waken, so the liquid pulled into her mouth but dribbled pathetically out the sides of her mouth, which was held wide open via her mother’s nipple. Soon her entire muzzle, neck and chest were covered in the stuff and sure she wasn’t really nursing but did the dark girl care? Goodness, no! The simple act of suckling felt so real, felt so right, that she resigned herself to a life of this: drinking and feasting against the wriggling masses of her brothers, who were both doing the same exact thing.
RE: the bird and the bee [m] - Dakarai - March 13, 2017
Welcome to the world guys(and gal). <3
In the midst of everything his wife's sweet thanks brought his attention from the squirming and shrieking bodies of the children, and he didn't know what to say. Almost everything from this point had been difficult and painful, but would he ever take it back? No he wouldn't but it also wasn't something to be thanked for. He had done what was right, what he needed to do to keep his wife alive and in turn his children too. yes they were now under punishment for his deeds, but in the end he had to keep faith it would alright otherwise he would lose his mind.
"No.Thank you. I have brought my share of darkness to which you brought your light. Without you by my side everything would have slipped out of control. Thank you for loving me, for choosing me to give your heart to and have a family with." he said choking on a sudden lump in his throat as joyful tears threatened to drip onto the fuzzy fur of their newborns. offering a shaky smile he brought his muzzle down toward the three children as Olive called out for Carina,as she seemed to have named the woman. His tongue came out in gentle rasps as he whispered words in his native tongue. he was falling in love all over again, except this love was different.