Dragoncrest Cliffs vwa lanmè a

slightly early birth as ill be busy next week! like before, the orange x is the den, the blue x is where she is starting her labor walk :) no posting order, everyone is welcome <3

this time mireille did not curse the tribulatory pains so very much. she had sought @Chacal and swayed in the arms of her sister; she had stayed some time with maleah and sought @Sobeille and @Astera for this as well, showing her contractions and their grasp upon her. if one day they sought motherhood, then this sight, shared also with chani, would prepare them well. a time of silence was given also near @Kheviel, mireille searching only in silence for whatever power the elder-woman possessed.
their men she did not seek, save for val and @Thibault; this was a time of great change for a woman of sapphique, and it was with her sisters and daughter and nieces she must spend this. their aventurine was the only other permitted thus to attend the obsidian in this time; he had earned it. she did linger near @Ravin and @Theo for a moment, allowing them also to bear witness, though this would not be their lot to carry.
and the cries did not come half so early, half so harshly. mireille strode the night away, a low thrumming sound deepening in her throat each time the pains bore down and removed her ability to take another step. and back into the sea she returned, long swimming strokes occupying her mind while the pains eased. she ate ravenously and rested upon the sand, and woke to greater pains and a fierce, breaking ache.
mother's-body told mireille that now she must return to her hollow, and with small strained smile for any gazes upon her, the redfurred obsidian caught the glow of morninglight just as the thorns embraced her gravid figure. no mothers here, but again she wept for them all the same, ensconcing herself amid the downward curling of moss in the upturned palm of the broken tree where she had borne her first four.
her pain trailed then into the flowing seasalt air, trickling with agonies yet to come, and as the morning glittered down its first glow into the green-draped little archways, @Jadou emerged from the panting body of the ocean-mother and lay over one quivering thigh, caul pulled and passages cleared. a son, mireille saw, but was not displeased. so autumn-red and delicate.
the bright scarlet of @Shadess was next to follow within the hour, and mireille churned to bring this child earthside, to lay her alongside exhausted belly beside the little jadou. her tears fell freely as she kissed their small ears and carefully cleansed all birth-matter from downy spines.
ah, motherhood! and she did not fear it so much this time.
but the pains bent her again to fearful whims; her whimpering became a full-throated cry as blood came. her pushing was to little avail; mireille dragged herself upright, and set toned shoulder against the mossweave side of the hollow, and braced herself, crying out into a scream.
@Lucette! @Lafayette! curled together, sharing one breath, and she saw the color of them, and their small closed eyes almost in a row, and swallowed hard.
twin children, cleaned as meticulously as the first two and tucked against the curve of her side.
four! marveled over by their mother and she looked up and saw the next afternoon had come, paling to the gold of twilight as this quartet of seababes mused in their first breaths of air on a shoreline conquered long ago so that they might live free.
"mamans," the exhausted mother whispered as she lay her head upon one outstretched arm, eyelids barely hanging to consciousness, "i know you see dem. an' sobo, ah, i know you be t'ere also. look, look," the obsidian murmured, drifting into a wakeful napping as the wonderment of four children lived their first at her breast.

jadou, from the beginning, was the most average puppy one could expect.
he slides into the world a pale, messy blend of deep red shades, stretching out his stubby forelimbs in search of his maman, much in the same way every other child of his freshness does. he rolls around, lazy and lopsided, and from his mouth come the pathetic cries of finding one's voice for the very first time; help me! i'm cold! i'm hungry!
boys are all take and no give, and on first glance it must seem jadou is no different — he snuffles his way to a teat and latches with no other care or tribulation, no regard for the three other bodies at his side. no one truly knows if these are traits we are born with, or if they develop over spans of time; if separation from the norm is learned or baked into our brains. this is especially not so certain when you have only just been yanked earthside by the will of higher power. but what is certain is that, even as a newborn and typical as he may seem,
there is something distinctly other about this firstborn child.

mireille, now a mother for the second year.
maleah had watched her change under pregnancy in quiet admiration, always offering whatever assistance she could. away from the eyes of their sisters, the healer gave soft glances of longing; sometimes, her touch lingered a bit longer than was necessary, breath caught in her throat like a swallowed knife, wishing in some distant way that the children she bore belonged to both of them.
weeks passed and with them came preparations for the birth. she worked alongside chacal and val to keep her safe and cared for; a warm tea here, a soaked clump of moss there; dried kelp and lavender, prayers to whatever higher powers that might be. and then came the classic signs of labor, the tightening of muscles. maleah could do little but watch from afar.
mireille had gone to her nursery, and all the while the sapphire was a nervous wreck. for hours she sat near the roja den with the eldest children, tail twitching subconsciously against the thawing earth. she gauged reactions from miette and thibault, and in some way sought comfort from them as well. little sobeille, ever faithful assistant, had grown so much —! her heart aches for how she will once again watch as the seababes sprout into grown spirits.
when the time comes for visitors, maleah hurries to beat the inevitable crowd at the side of sobeille; with her she brings a calming root and moss soaked with drink. there are four. four beautiful, tiny bodies, and at the center of their orbit is mireille — fierce, radiant, incredible mireille, sleeping peacefully now.
they're beautiful, aren't they? she whispers in passing to val as she reaches to touch her palm to the obsidian's wrist. you did good, mir.
as she gazes down at the new mother, her eyes sting with silent affection that for now only exists between them.