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+--- Thread: Moonspear blood of my blood (/showthread.php?tid=35276)
blood of my blood - Hydra - June 17, 2019
@Antares @Vega @Atlas @Osiris — I will be PM'ng who will be who tomorrow; thanks y'all for the applications and the interest. You have made our decision SO difficult... and we love you guys for that! anyone that comes to close may be eaten
The past two days demanded she be here.
Here was her whelping den, and she was restless. Hydra accepted the company of precious few, and there was no question amongst any of them that her time was near. The question that all dared not ask lest they face her simmering wrath was when? Hydra did not know it herself. Her own tongue dare not tempt fate and ask it, either. Let it come when it would.
Her heart ached. Her body, too. And one day the ache was so terrible that she could bear it no more, and that was the day fate answered her with a contraction that changed anything and everything she had ever knew of pain. Pain was not the fang of an enemy; pain was not the betrayal of a loved one; pain was not seeing those you thought would walk the earth for eternity leave it before they could—
This was pain.
It ripped through her and Hydra stumbled in her step, not at all expecting the strength of it. More likely than not, this was not her first. Her tolerance for pain was different than most, but she found it. Hydra bore her teeth, grit them, snarled loudly as she disappeared and found darkness. The pain was so great, Hydra swore she could see her mother, her father. She snapped them away, resistant even to them, and lay—
@Alya and @Lyra
—And red and black. She did as her body bid her to do, and it took several hours until she looked upon not one, but four creatures by her side. When did that all happen? She had cleaned them of their sac, their blood, but at present could not remember a minute of their birth except for the pain they caused her. But there was no twist of resentment in her gut as she stared at them, only relief; four healthy babes. Suckling to their hearts content. None dead. They all lived. And Hydra called to none in this hour; likely her sisters knew, felt it, too, and would keep Dirge away for a time while her anger with him abated.
It was not his fault she suffered through birth, but as some mothers are wont to do she was content to temporarily place the blame upon him.
RE: blood of my blood - Arcturus - June 17, 2019
arcturus did not come near, but he listened and watched for hydra. he remained outside even as growls turned to snarls, and then snarls turned to strange silence. arcturus knew naught of birthings, but given all that transpired as of late, he was ever near to hydra.
he stood sentinel well outside her den, sitting against stone in a stiffened pose. he was oddly collected for a wolf so close to hydra — perhaps his ignorance of whelping (and how horrifically it could go) was a blessing, for he was remarkably composed at this hour.
dirge was given only an impassive look any time the prospective father came his way. other wolves might be nervous or fret as their wives, mothers, or sisters bore children: arcturus was not. he knew hydra was fierce and strong, and he knew this too would soon be over.
RE: blood of my blood - Dirge - June 18, 2019
For days he had been well aware of the shift in her routine. Subtle at first but then increasingly obvious. Her time had drawn near just as she had said and he expected, then all at once it was as though she too were absent from the world. It did not deter him from what needed to be done, what he picked up in the slack of her stride and stead. But when the day had grown long and she had not summoned him or otherwise ushered him from the forested lowlands, he had gone to seek her.
It was Arcturus that he laid eyes on first, sitting not unlike a gargoyle waiting for dusk to pass. Beyond that he could sense her sisters loitering through the timber, could feel the persistence of wandering gazes. It was enough to dissuade him from nearing the den mouth though he was hardly foolish or brazen enough to try and breach the sanctity of her whelping site. Hydra had long been keen to have him for company to find it, but had otherwise defended it. And just as her brother and sisters did, he too would defend it from a wider range.
Not lingering long, he gained evidence of what he needed to. It was hard to miss the acrid air or to play deaf to a plainitive cry. He would return again and again later for those minute updates with a curiosity not hidden, but until then, there were things to do. Best to keep idle hands and minds busy; she would let him near when she decided to, and he trusted their shared kin to keep her safe.
RE: blood of my blood - Antares - July 13, 2019
He arrived in due time, facing the initial transition into the life ahead with all the grace, bravado, and fury a freshly-born wolf could muster. A wriggling thing, or lively depending on the view, he was quick to protest this considerable upheaval of course. Everything had changed in what seemed like an instant, and though nature's sure touch had so far kept him very safe and wholly prepared.. these initial jarring moments of such sheer newness were definitely cause for complaint. From the second he found his lungs, he cried out, for none of this seemed right! Why this! And why now! Wasn't he still so small!? Until this instant, there had been comfort, darkness, and warmth—until he was plucked from the ether of his swirling and drifting universe's vastness, and sent headlong into the fray called being.
But.. his cries hushed down then shifted into low grunts under the efforts of his mother's cleansing tongue, bringing him immediate relief from all the unfamiliarity that ailed him. Maybe that was going to help, and as a sensation not so unwelcome as the chilly, firm, new world at his paws, maybe he could be convinced. Maybe wrong wasn't it—maybe he was just very new at this, so limited in his reach, and oh, really really hungry... !! Thanks to a little help to get himself in the right direction, he could remedy one matter and he latched himself on. Steadily, that greedy hunger phased into contentedness. That was better, too. When some of his siblings eventually came to join at his sides, instinctively, that eased further him as well.
So for the time being, this newborn Ostrega quieted himself, drank his fill, then dozed off to conclude the event that marked his arrival. But is any end anything more than something else’s beginning..?
RE: blood of my blood - Atlas - July 13, 2019
It felt like a dream.
All he had to entertain him in the weeks leading up to his being was the indecipherable ticking of time, his siblings, and visions. Visions not incomprehensible to a wolf, no, not even an embryonic babe. Being ushered into existence felt like any other day.
As soon as a tongue gingerly swipes over his tiny muzzle does he know breath. He hungrily draws in air, smelling nothing. Scent will come to him later. For now, all he smells is his life-giver's saliva, a pleasant scent that fans hotly over his body. It is a comfort to one who has just taken his first breath. She guides him into a steady cadence. In and out, in and out...
He does not know what is happening. One moment he is pondering the sensations inundating his system, the next, he is being offered a nipple in this trying time. At first, he suckles sheepishly, taking the liquid into his mouth and toying with it. Mm. Good. He begins again, nursing with a ferocity only a newborn could muster.
Belly full, the inkblot rests his burdensome head on his right arm and sleeps. Oblivious to all the world (save for the motions of his siblings at his side), he dreams well, nestled, warm, loved.
RE: blood of my blood - Osiris’s Ghost - July 20, 2019
I am terribad at birth posts but wanted to get something up in here. Hello world!
Everything about the world and his existence in it was changing, but Osiris Ostrega's awareness of it was dim, at best. He sensed only discomfort and chill, his tiny voice raising in tune with the cries of his siblings as he protested this most unwelcome disruption from the status quo. The gentle touch of his mother's tongue soothed his wails for a time, but they picked back up with renewed fervor when she moved on to tend to the others. Soon, though, he felt the press of a warm belly soft against his face and, instinctively, rooted around for a teat until his mouth latched on and he began to suckle. Greedily, he filled his belly until the fuzzy, black fingers of sleep tickled the edges of his consciousness and he gave in, falling into a dreamless, milk-drunk sleep.