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Blackfeather Woods for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - Printable Version

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for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - Cassiopeia - May 25, 2019

she's chosen the glen to make her den. not because she wants to, but because she feels poorly about coming to the wood only in her time of need and will not sequester herself to some corner and vanish from the eyes of the pack as she so desires. she owes them, now, her respect for Maegi and her siblings allow no other interpretation. it is a vow she'll bear easily enough, though wishes time had allowed for her to prove her word in some way.

the afternoon is hot and humid and overbearing, and she is driven to the glen by the sharp pains that begin to dig their keen talons into her sides. she wavers by the pool, maw agape and panting, and for the first time in a long while she feels something akin to fear. the mouth of the den yawns, almost invitingly, but she can still taste the stone and stale on her tongue and see the pups with the life so quickly torn from them. the echoes of the restlessness that had driven her all day nip at her still, but instead she sinks to the earth beside the pool, ears drawn tight to her crown. 

the woman exhales through gritted teeth, and then there is a haze of hurt and pressure and a bundle she draws towards herself. she feels almost detached from the situation, as if the maternal instincts that drive her to clean and draw close the bundle that will one day be called @Scylla are not her own. There is little time to ground herself, for this is only the first, and growl slips her throat as pain ripples down her sides once more. the stone escarpments all around give way to trees and then a darkening cloudbank, promising a drizzle that will, at some point or another, force the woman inside. not now, not yet.  



RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - RIP Parvati - May 25, 2019

Knowledge of the newcomer had not yet reached her but it was difficult to ignore the strange sounds that filled the glen, for they were a familiar cacophony that Parvati had witnessed a few times in her past. The struggle sounded like a battle; not one of warrior men, but brave and worthy women. The voice that carried sounds of distress through the wood summoned something within Parvati and so she sought out the source. 

The closer she got the more worked up she felt. The woman was always eager to assist her sisters in her natal pack and this was no different - or so she thought, until she finally arrived on the scene and found the woman struggling. The scent of afterbirth soaked in to the forest floor; the sounds of the woman struggling abated somewhat as the first bundle was delivered; yet of all the chaos, what stood out most to Parvati was the scent of Ramsay.

He must have interacted with this stranger for her to be here. Perhaps he had bewitched her too - lain with her, and with powerful daedric magic he had cursed her. A foolish, imaginative plot that held no basis in reality. But she was skeptical and hormonal, witnessing this birth from the shadows and feeling her gut twist with jealousy. Once she contained her own emotions on the subject she came striding closer, her belly swaying with the momentum.

Breathe, she softly reminded the new mother, Rest, your fight is not over yet.


RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - Cassiopeia - May 25, 2019

another growl slips betwixt tightened jaws, and pain ripples again down her side. still, she is detached, alienated from the body that stirs, moves, is alive at her chest. it takes the sudden presence of another to ground her fully, and she feels then the full magnitude of her pain, her actions, and knows that her child is fiercely hers. growl again crawls from her throat, this one born not out of pain but out of a kind of defensive possessiveness she did not expect to feel. her gaze settles on the woman, and she is dimly aware she is panting, and that the stranger is speaking. she does not both to reply. she is breathing, quickly and labored, but breathing all the same, at that has to be good enough.

another. two. the come quickly, the latter almost on the heels of the first. she trembles and instant at the strain of it, the understanding that the contractions are ebbing, now. she draws them towards her, clumsily, and dislodging the first who cries out in a way that has her pause, blinking, at it. the two are covered in blood, the same covering as the first, and loose earth. she exhales, the burning in her chest subsiding and realizing that she ought to have heeded the woman's advice. 

the pup she cleans now is lighter than the one at her chest, and she places it beside the first, where it lays limp. the last she sorts out far more quickly than the first two, and again she places it alongside the others. the girl who will be called @Astraea is quick to latch onto a teat, though her sibling is unmoving. the woman is too exhausted to notice the odd stillness immediately, and instead runs her muzzle over the writhing firstborn before turning her attention once more to the woman. it's drizzling - sometime during the end of her labour, it must have started. she blinks, exhausted and unable to piece together the words she wants to, which are, in simplest terms, what now?



RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - RIP Parvati - May 25, 2019

Her words are recieved with a look and nothing more. She realized it would be futile to try and coach this woman through her battle. Any offering she made was not done with certainty; she would be parroting whatever came to mind, instructions that were memories rather than lessons. They were both in the dark in regards to expectations and aid, so all that Parvati could really do to help was sit and watch as the stranger produced more whelps. It might've been awkward for the mother had she not been so busy; less so for Parvati, who was comfortable with women above all.

The mother strained, panting, whelping more bodies and gathering them until she could do so no longer. One look - that's all Parvati glimpsed as the stranger hurried to gather and clean her babes. Warm them. She murmured. The drizzle overhead wasn't so bad, but these newborns had no ability to regulate themselves and so the adults would have to do it for them. That gave Parvati an idea - which she hastened to act upon. She moved to the other side of the babes and lay down without a word, hoping to share her warmth.

I mean you no harm, am-jadida. Will you let me help? Parvati crooned softly, not wishing to disturb the squalling babes. A glance skyward, and she wondered aloud, this weather is dangerous for all of you.


RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - Maegi - May 27, 2019

Cassiopeia's presence here had been noted and welcomed, though (through no fault of her own; her human puppet-master's real-life responsibilities beckoned) she had not had a chance to speak with her old friend directly. The pregnancy was obvious, and Maegi welcomed the chance for more children to be born here, alongside hers. In fact. . .

Two of them, Cassiopeia and Parvati. No, wait—four! The Melonii drew in a sharp breath as she entered the glen, the sight before her unfolding quickly. Rain darkened her pale pelt as she hobbled forward with much haste, coming onto the scene with joy tinged with apprehension in her eyes.

What can I do for you? Maegi asked, fixing her gaze upon Cass and her babes. Parvati was a background character, for now, though Maegi hadn't missed the roundness of her belly—could there be more? Who had fathered these future whelps? She pushed it aside. How can I help?


RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - Cassiopeia - June 04, 2019

she sighed and knew her task to be complete. 
she did not think of the labours and tribulations that would unfold in the coming months, but was instead content to allow the woman close, peering through tired gaze at the two tiny attempts at wolves she'd born. she nodded at the woman's words, drawing them close and accepting her help. "thank you." the approach of Maegi had her glance up, and though her desire to be alone and undisturbed with her young increased, she suppressed it now. "maegi." were her own sides round? this seemed wrong, somehow, but she could not place the reason why and thought on it no further, thoughts slipping away from her easily.

despite the proximity of the stranger to her flesh and blood, the chill of the rain, smile curved her muzzle. "help me bring them to shelter?" she asked, almost surprised at the hoarseness of her own voice. she nosed over the nearest daughter, felt her breath beneath her touch. her limbs and sides felt spent, exhausted and the simple act of moving her whelps seemed intimidating. 



RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - RIP Parvati - June 05, 2019

Parvati's body gave off a substantial amount of heat due to her own pregnancy, and she was content to lay and guard the new mother for as long as necessary. When the familiar shape of Maegi (burdened by her own swelling abdomen) arrived the woman was busy cleaning and protecting the tiny bodies. It would be wise to let the mother rest. Wiser still to seek shelter, so when Cassiopeia requested aid there was no reason to refuse. In silence Parvati heaved herself to her feet and after a few tenative investigations of the newborns, she glanced from them to Cassiopeia and back, soundlessly assuring the new mother that the babes would be safe with her. Parvati gently picked up one of the tiny forms and hurried to carry it somewhere sheltered.


RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - Maegi - June 05, 2019

The rain was cold and darkened her pale coat, but it was an occasion full of joy. Cassiopeia had children. At the question, Maegi nodded once, watching as Parvati picked up one of the pups and headed for shelter. She flashed Cass a smile, then stooped to take the other pup, still wet and warm from birth, in her mouth. The taste was odd—earthy, salty. Like nothing else. Was this how her own pups would taste, when she cleaned them?

Maegi followed Parvati, and once they had reached someplace more secure, set the pup down and curled her lithe body around it, waiting for the new mother to join them. They're both beautiful, she murmured, gazing between the two. One light, one dark.

Who was the father? Did she dare ask, or was that too personal a question?


RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - Cassiopeia - June 08, 2019


together, they find shelter in one of the stone dens lining the glen, and Cassiopeia sinks to the floor, resting only a moment before offering the smallest smile to both women, drawing close her young once more and guiding them with instinct she did not know she possessed to her teats. there is pride when she peers down at the two daughters she knows are and will be perfect, but there is also the budding sense of something else. "thank you," she murmurs to the woman, and offers them both a glance. her gaze lingers a moment on Maegi. she still sees the pup she was, but it is an image that grows fainter each time she sees her. still, she is exhausted in a way no battle before has left her, and she curls around her children as outside the rain begins to fall with greater intensity. she thinks, perhaps, that happiness is attainable.



RE: for who would bear the whips and scorns of time - Hela - June 08, 2019

life came quickly, fierce and merciless. 

she took breathe and was, for the first time, aware. in that very first moment, she was omnipotent, all-encompassing. her mind stretched back to the earliest days of dust and weightlessness and light, beyond that day when her world will be swallowed by fire and all things cease. exhale, and was life with identity and shape and purpose, and shrieked her anger allowed. and then the world came all at once; the rain, the cold, the pressure, the hunger, the warmth, the comfort, a thousand sensations that she could only react to. 

time passed, or perhaps none at all, and her maw found its way to a teat and the cold gave way to warmth. taste, comfort, pleasure, these thing added to the bombardment. but it was fading, slipping, and she was asleep, as close to life in the womb as she would ever get again.