Redtail Rise poetry - Printable Version +- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com) +-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5) +--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: Redtail Rise poetry (/showthread.php?tid=55172) |
poetry - Avicus - March 22, 2023 because i am IMPATIENT — set for tomorrow!
she'd been idly surveying a warren of rabbits near her den when the pains started. fantasizing about devouring their children just as hers began their slow descent into the world. karmic retribution, perhaps. between pacing and gritting her teeth, she howls for @Ashlar and @Masquerade, then lets her head hang, nose bowed to her sternum. she remembers the agony now. a deeper, darker sort of hurt than flesh wounds, resonating to her core. walking helps, somewhat. she pads in circles as best as she can, trying to move even through each contraction. soon, she won't be able to walk at all—and after that, tied to the den indefinitely. Avicus will take advantage of free movement while she still has the chance. RE: poetry - Masquerade - March 22, 2023 Masquerade stole a nap near Avicus’s den. Her flanks slowly rose and fell as she slept on her side, the position really showing off the cut of her hip bone and the way her gray fur clung to her ribs. She snorted awake when the Wealda called, blinking and jumping to all fours with a grunt. Masque trotted out from her chosen hiding spot to find Avicus pacing, head hanging low between her shoulder blades. The Ulfr strode up to Avicus and licked gently at her chin, heart thumping against her sternum as she asked, Is it time? RE: poetry - Ashlar - March 22, 2023 He came as soon as the call came. Masquerade was already there, and Avicus was pacing, which meant they had time. He wouldn’t presume to tell her what to do when just as last year, instinct would do that job for them. Instead he remained and smiled a small smile, providing one eager wave of his tail. That was as much celebration as he’d have until after; for now, he was at her beck and call. Anything she needed he would provide. feel free to power play him as you like <3 if you wish!
RE: poetry - Avicus - March 22, 2023 mmmm,she grumbles to Masque's question, taking the chin lick as best she could before pulling away. she can't stand to be touched right now. her body's going to be violated enough in the coming hours. Ashlar's here, too, and she gives him a glance before continuing to walk, breathing heavily through her nostrils, balancing the pain. 'round and 'round. . . hours later, she's situated in the den, sprawled out, contractions relentless and endless and rippling across her form. a steady groan escapes her muzzle, but not much more; she's borne this pain before and knows it well. she won't dignify it even with a cry. first out is a jet-black boy (@Redsky), already darker than any of her three children. she scarcely has time to glance back at him and help with breaking his sac before the next comes, and then—oh, god, one after the other. two twin lumps of dark brown (one of them @Mulherin), almost connected in their haste to exit. indistinguishable. and then the last, another dark pup—really, all of them are shadowy hues, and she knows she'll struggle to tell them apart before they gain their tell-tale attributes. storm-clouds at her breast; she thinks of her mother, suddenly, and her heart swells to capacity. she'd be proud. a quartet, healthy and sound. RE: poetry - Masquerade - March 22, 2023 When Avicus retired to the den, Masquerade paced outside, more like a chain-smoking father in a 1950s waiting room than a midwife. The gaunt yearling threw Ashlar looks every now and then. He seemed calm, so she took that as her cue, even if she couldn’t quite sit still. She froze at the sound of a groan, then dropped into a crouch and crawled toward the doorway, unable to resist the urge to peek inside. She was rewarded with the image of Avicus pushing her firstborn into the world. Riveted, Masque bore witness as three more followed. Her eyes grew wider with each one. “…after, they need dried and warmed…” Ashlar’s voice drifted up out of her memories. Masque exchanged a glance with the Hǣlend, then turned back to stare at her newborn siblings. They looked dry and warm, tucked against Avicus. The Ulfr’s tail thumped. You did it,she whispered to her surely weary mother. Can I get you anything? She would do whatever Avicus asked of her, though part of Masquerade hoped the Wealda would say “no,” so that she could just stay here and gaze at the pups for a while. There wasn’t much to them—they were totally helpless and impossibly tiny, with barely discernible features—but already they meant everything. RE: poetry - Redsky - March 23, 2023 Redsky was the first pup of the litter to be pushed into existence. There was a lot going on around him as he made his appearance but he didn't know anything. As he was born and finally able to breathe, he followed his instinct, which led him to his mothers belly where he lie next to his littermates, who were soon born after him, before latching on and contenting his stomach. He was soon asleep. RE: poetry - Relic - March 23, 2023 His Welda's cry pierced the air. It could only mean one thing. Her time had come! Relic was about to become a big brother. A bundle of nerves and excitement wrapped all into one, he bolted for the site where Avicus had made her whelping den. His hackles stood upright stiffly. A newfound surge of protectiveness flowed in his blood. Not just towards her, but for his unborn brothers and sisters. He wanted to be there for this. For all of them. Ashlar and Masquerade were already there when he arrived. It seemed he had only just missed the birth, catching the tail end of tiny little squeals coming from within the den. For his Welda, for his siblings, he let out a keening whine. A sound never heard from the nearly grown Redtail before. To let his mother know he was close, while he hovered tentatively yet protectively outside the dens entrance. RE: poetry - Mountain Boulder - March 23, 2023 cameo!
augur's celebration was muted but present.
he howled out a low note and did not approach the densite where he knew red woman toiled to bring new life among them. thorn caller and blacktail were with her. for a long while he watched, and then augur departed though he would stay close enough to be called. a pheasant lay where he had been, an offering for red woman's strength. his pride in her was apparent. RE: poetry - Mulherin - March 23, 2023 Woohoo!!
There was nothing. And then, everything.
The newborn sputters and writhes, overwhelmed by the new sensations of being brought into this world, though he could only navigate it by touch and smell. All he desired was to be back where he was before. He grumbles and whines incessantly to show his discomfort. The touch of his mother and presence of his siblings alongside him soothed his budding frustration. He was blissfully unaware to the gathering of his packmates. His main goal at the moment was to find a way to fill his belly. That was all that mattered. Finally, like the others alongside him, he seeks comfort in the warmth of his mother and latches. However, continuing to grumble now and then, as if it were instinctual. RE: poetry - Carrion - March 23, 2023 The fifth of seven offspring born to Avicus Redtail somersaulted from the womb and swan-dived into a perfect little splash. Score cards read: 10/10. (Experiences may have varied. Some onlookers recalled this event a bit differently.) But no sooner had she stuck the landing did her twin freefall gracelessly on top of her. He was disqualified on principle. Once the sac was broken, bringing her into the Château de Life, she immediately began to wail her grievances at the concierge. The A/C is set too low out here. Wait, is that a fire? No? Just my lungs tasting air for the first time, you say? Well, hmph. These accommodations are awful. Why are you being so rough with me? Are you removing me from the premises?? No? You’re bathing me? You call this a bath?! It seemed that every new sensation this day would do all it could to enrage the pitiful creature. Except for milk. She was abruptly supplicated by the all-powerful nipple, quieting her and allowing a shawl of self-satisfaction to settle over her shoulders as she nursed, feeling her twin settle in beside her. Now that’s more like it. never in a million years thought i'd have a puppy born to a hurricane chris song and yet here i am
RE: poetry - Ashlar - March 24, 2023 late/early post to not hold things up. Skippable! (Like in every thread lately XD)
If Avicus asked for him he would enter, otherwise he kept to the outside. This year seemed to go more smoothly. Perhaps it was experience, or perhaps it was something else. Either way, he didn’t need to intercede to ensure the pups were cared for. Still he listened, stiff with fear and excitement. He ducked his head rather than joining the howls, self-conscious about celebrating so early and so close to the den. He flushed with the warmth of pleasure it brought though. This was worth celebrating! He kept an ear to the den, glancing towards it every so often, but unwilling to crowd the exit. He would check in before he departed. RE: poetry - Avicus - March 27, 2023 this is the last post from me <3
Mature Content WarningThis thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so. The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: gory afterbirth stuff whines and howls rip through the air in celebration, and she smells fresh meat nearby. once she'd finished the task of cleaning them up and nudging them toward her breast—thankfully, this came without the desire to consume them as it had last year—she looks up at Masque, who's leaning in and asking her questions. foodh,she says back, and her stomach audibly gurgles. wait—more cramps, less severe than before, and she grunts a couple of times before the pungent, bloody mass of the placenta leaves her body as well. she shifts and leans over, probably to the puppies' consternation, then devours the thing in a few quick gulps. that seems to satisfy her appetite, at least for the moment. no,Avicus amends, licking her chops. ne'er mindh. juhh' be here. Ashlar's seen all this before, but Masquerade is a steady bulwark against his nervous energy, and she finds the two of them an extraordinary helpful team. instead, she lays her head back down, one eye trained watchfully upon her newborns. RE: poetry - Masquerade - March 27, 2023 The instant her mother said the word, Masque swept upright. Much as she wanted to linger here and admire her new siblings, they needed her in another way. By providing for Avicus, she would be sustaining them too. Although they no longer lived inside the Wealda’s body, they would still feed from it. Before she could fully turn around inside the doorway, her mother’s grunts of pain caused Masquerade to turn back in concern. No sooner had she let out a questioning whine when Avicus birthed… something. This was no puppy. Masque stared at it, at least until her mother promptly devoured it. Avicus reneged on her earlier request for food before settling. Masque stayed frozen in the doorway, utterly nonplussed by what she’d just witnessed. When the unconcerned Wealda settled, her eyes sought Ashlar’s again. He didn’t seem particularly perturbed either. “Just be here,” was Avicus’s final word on the matter, which Masque would respect. Pushing aside her uneasiness, the yearling resumed a crouch near the threshold. She folded her forelegs underneath her chest and angled her ruddy snout toward the four suckling babes, savoring this opportunity to simply marvel at them. RE: poetry - Relic - March 30, 2023 All was well. The birth went without incident. His mother and younger siblings all seemed healthy. Relic was pleased that his cousin, Ancelin, had not shown his face. Masquerade would stay behind to watch over his newly expanded family. With one last lingering glance, he turned to be on his way to find food for his kin. They would need it. |