Sun Mote Copse Maybe we can make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere

Set both today and tomorrow, April 4.
 @Alyx @Quetzal

It started in the gleaming light of morning, when it came to creep slowly into the warmth of the den she was sharing with @Phox. Oddly enough, Bronco had chosen to spend the night with them, which put Niamh's heart at ease. He'd been transformed, seemingly, after he'd gone to the log that @Towhee called her temporary home, and had seen Meerkat and had had his first experience with a puppy. She woke up with pain in her side, which very much alarmed Bronco who sat up quick enough to slam his head off the ceiling before he scuttled outside, staggering slightly. Niamh laughed and then cringed as she felt pressure against her belly, and with a hoarse voice, she sent Phox out into the open as well. 

She began to fret then, knowing what was coming- and began to muss the den up, moving the fluff and fur around to make a good bed before she set into getting picky, and started pulling whatever twigs and other imperfections had been carried into the den and introduced to the bedding. Distastefully, she began to carry them out and spat them on the ground near her two sentries before she wordlessly went back inside. She scuffled and shuffled, and investigated the walls, being mindful of the fact that Bronco had nearly cracked the ceiling when he'd sat up too fast, but it was all, structurally, sound. 

"Don't get @Eljay," She called out, a bit of frustration in her voice. Eljay had been fretting over her and apparently everyone else, almost obsessively since Elwood and Finley had passed away. Maybe he was just trying to distract himself- and she had been easy enough about tolerating his well-meaning questions, but now was not the time. While she was in the preparation period- and who knew how long she'd be anxious for- she preferred to be left alone, and she didn't have the patience to answer questions. She knew she would be going into labour soon, and right now, as far as she knew, nothing was wrong. She just did not want questions. 

Hours later, she would brush past the males, walking straight out of her den with her head up. "Just goin' to get a drink." She said, as she could feel their eyes on her. Whatever it was that Bronco whispered, then, to Phox, made her stare over her shoulder at him, silencing him mid-whisper. She plodded away until she reached the brook, had a drink, and then returned, quietly slipping back into the den where she would restlessly lay for the rest of the day, until the shadows grew long and stole the sunlight from the entrance to her den. Alone, she spent the night tossing and turning and fretting. For one small, two hour period of time, she eventually passed out simply because she needed sleep- but it would be the last respite she would get before she would be awakened again by the hosts of her own body turning against her. 

"Ahright ya sons of a bitch," She said, and found no reason to take offense given that she was talking to herself and the term was politically correct in this case, "Time to git out," She hissed. Bronco stuck his head in the den's mouth but was greeted with a loud growl. He saw the glimmer of his mother's teeth in the dark and backed away. Niamh preferred to be alone, and would pace in small circles, pausing to lay down and pant and brace herself against contractions when they came. They became more and more frequent, and she found herself finally ready to give birth. 

It would take her the next hour and a half to give birth to all three puppies. The first one was a pale creature, and in the darkness of her den, knowing there would be hours to come before the sun rose, she couldn't tell exactly what colour it was, but she knew it was a baby boy. She called out, "Baby number one's here, it's a boy," She said, but still did not invite company. She fussed about him, clearing his little face off and licking his belly, and though he seemed a bit slow to warm up and begin to move and bawl, he came around to nurse in a brief period of calm before she began to experience contractions again. 

The next two took some time before they came, but when one did, the other followed soon thereafter, which kept her busy. She had to make sure that both were breathing, and had clear mouths and empty noses so that they could breathe. "Two girls," She called out, to let Bronco and Phox (and whoever else had gathered outside) know. Fortunately, they were the tough sort- and came into the world full of zest. Once she had them cleaned up and sorted out- two little girls to go next to her nursing boy, she settled back to wait...But nothing happened, and something inside her told her that she was done. She cleaned up the necessary mess, and had the three pups cleaned to the point where they were soft and fluffy. She cleared her throat, then, and glanced toward the den's mouth. The sun had just started seeping in the entrance, so she smiled, and called out with a soft chuff, to entice her mate back into the den, so he could meet the newest members of their family.

While his mother probably thought he'd woken up fast just because she'd said something, that wasn't the full story. She'd kicked him so hard in the gut that he'd jumped to his feet, slamming the top of his head against the roof of the den, and had to shake off a bit of the dirt that came loose and fell into his ears. He made to complain but his mother looked like she was about to mule-kick him into tomorrow, so he whimpered softly, tucked his tail and scampered out the den without looking back. So much for staying for a peaceful sleepover. He'd thought that it might be a nice idea, to stay with his Mom and Phox- and it had been fine. Phox...actually was a good guy, Dad jokes aside. But that calm was suddenly interrupted, and as soon as Bronco made it outside, he scampered clear of the den's entrance, and wretched into the grass. 

The kick to his gut had come first, to upset his stomach. But as soon as he'd left the den, he realized that his Mom was probably going to give birth soon- and that hit him like another solid kick to his soft innards. He collected himself, and meandered sheepishly back to stand post near the den's entrance, where Phox was. A bit ashamed of himself, Bronco lay down on the ground and moped, setting his head on his crossed front legs, and kept one ear turned toward the den where he could hear his mother fret, shuffle and curse softly to herself. 

He wanted to get Eljay, just to have him around, just in case. He too had noticed that Eljay had been checking in on him and asking him how he was a bit more than usual, and that he seemed somewhat...Frazzled. Not wanting to invite a landslide of emotions, Bronco had done his best not to invite Eljay to share his feelings- just because he knew he was incapable of handling them. Maybe he should have done better- he too had lost his father...But Eljay had lost both his parents at once, and it was simply too difficult a subject for Bronco to handle. He was still very sensitive when it came to the topic of death. 

He lifted himself suddenly when she came out- and quickly made the excuse to go to the stream. "Do you think one of us should go-" But the sentence was cut short when his mother glared at him. She didn't want help, and didn't want anyone near her, that was for sure. So he stayed where he was, and when she returned, he avoided eye contact which seemed to please her better. Not wanting to snag her attention again, any conversations between Bronco and Phox were kept quiet, and were somewhat limited, due to the tension that existed on the air- at least, for Bronco, who had never experienced a birth before. He stayed where he was, sitting as a guard, and eventually swayed a bit on his feet as his head began to bob. He tried to stay awake- but eventually, after sunset, he flopped to the ground, and didn't wake up again until he heard his mother's voice. 

"What?" He asked, looking at Phox. "What'd ya say, Ma?" He asked, and stuck his head in the den- only to be growled at, so he hastily retreated. "I, uh, I, uh, think she still wants space," He said. "Din' see anything." He offered, as though to console Phox who, like he, was banned from the den. He could understand why- certain things, he thought, just begged for a bit of privacy. He sat back down and waited, fretting as silently as he could while he heard his mother's soft whines and cursing, until it seemed to quiet down. Her voice came from the den, and Bronco looked up at Phox with a small smile. 

"A boy?" He asked softly, blinking in surprise. He had a little brother. He smiled and waited. He wanted to hear more, but his mother was busy and he knew better than to ask her questions when she was busy. He'd done that plenty when he'd been young, and she had never been shy in telling him off or giving him a good sound smack to discourage said behavior. She eventually gave the news that she had two more- girls- and he smiled even more, his tail thumping against the ground. He was full of nerves, but was content when his mother called for Phox to go in. He gave Phox a smile, and gestured. "I'll stan' guard. You go ahead," He said. The idea of seeing a brand new puppy was so terribly exciting- but he was a guardian, and would make sure that his mother's wishes were respected, and he could greet and entertain any visitors they would have, as the sun climbed over the horizon bringing with it a new day, and new life.

The past several weeks had been a whirlwind. Between helping Towhee with Meerkat, preparing for Niamh's kids, and the quarantine, Phox had been a very busy bee. He'd still made time for Figment and Fennec whenever he could, trying not to let his attention be torn away from them too much with the incoming kids. Whatever free time he had outside of that had been spent hunting and sleeping. It was exhausting, to say the least, but ever-so-rewarding.

When Niamh kicked them out of the den, Phox had a feeling he knew what was going on. When she emerged "just to get a drink," he bit his lip with a billion questions that were caught in his throat (though her still-swollen belly answered the primary one). Whatever quiet and quick words he shared with Bronco were very much in the background of his mind, and when he heard Niamh give the news that he had (another!) son, Phox turned and unapologetically licked Bronco's cheek in a gesture of pure joy.

Then, TWO more girls. Fennec was going to be delighted! Meerkat would have three siblings to grow up with, and Phox felt his heart swell with pride and joy. When Niamh finally beckoned him in, Phox glanced at Bronco, getting the verbal go-ahead from him as well, and slipped in to greet his three little bundles of DeMonte-Blackthorn-Redhawk.

They're perfect, was the only thing he managed, nosing them gently before licking Niamh's nose as well.

Niamh's eyes narrowed at first, but then she relaxed when she saw the dark form of her mate entering the den. He blocked out the light, temporarily, but then brought so much of it in with him, shining in his eyes as he looked down at his new children. She could see them better now- the little pale boy nestled alongside his two dark sisters. All three were healthy, and relatively similar in size so she felt that they should, ideally, all thrive together. She smiled as her mate fawned over her, and looked adoringly down at her three newborn children. 

"That's the boy," She said, and licked the pale one's back. She hesitated for a moment, leaning back to allow a bit more light in, but she couldn't quite tell what colour he was. "I thought he was blonde like me, but...I dunno. Hard to tell when he's this young, and without the right light." She couldn't quite pinpoint the colour he was, though she had a nagging feeling that he wasn't going to be the same hue of gold that Nellie was, given the fact that she'd been gold from birth. "And these two...They're the girls," She said with a soft chuckle. They were dark little things, but she could make out a slight dusting of gold along their temples, and along their shoulders and hips. "They look like little wolverines," She said, amused.

She knew her son was sitting outside, and she was glad to have a sentry. Still, she called out to him. "Hey, Firstborn- wanna send out the word?" She called. She wanted some time with Phox and the children in the meantime, but at least wanted to thank her son by giving him a task that would invite their closest family to come by and adorn her with congratulations.

Bronco was satisfied to sit and wait, while Phox went inside. Whatever jealousy he might have felt was well overlooked by the excitement he felt, and the duty he felt to stay outside and protect the area. He wasn't sure exactly how tiny brand new puppies were, but he was still somewhat intimidated knowing that he was so, so much bigger than them- and was content to keep his distance until he knew how to handle them. 

When his mother called out, he was surprised at first- but he had to guess, now, that yes he was indeed the firstborn son- and that he had a job to do. He took a moment to stick his head in, and squinted his eyes to see, in the dark- but sure enough, there was his mother, silhouetted by the dark outline of Phox, with three little, tiny lumps at her side. One was pale, and the other two were dark. "Awwww!" He fawned, before he grinned and backed out of the den's entrance. 

He called out, then, announcing the birth of his newest siblings. It felt odd for him to be the one doing it- given that these were only his half-siblings...But still. With great joy, he announced the health of his mother, and the arrival of his three newest siblings. He wasn't sure exactly if it meant that his mother was inviting absolutely everyone to gawk...But he figured that those who would be welcome would be welcomed, and those who weren't quite welcome yet would just have to be satisfied with coming back another day. He'd have to filter them out as they came, and announce them to his mother so she could make that decision.

One minute, she was alive, tracing the aged lines of a face reflected in water with rheumy eyes.

The next, she was gone.

The transition happened very quickly: memories swept away, locked behind the door of her mind where unfathomable things lived; hurts and past illness healed; soul plucked gingerly from its previous body and rubbed clean before being introduced to the next one. A tiny wolf cub nestled warmly in a womb alongside two others, jet black save for the smattering of silver and bronze on her ruff. Healthy. Perfect.

Alyx was thereafter born without a single complication, unless you counted her twin sister jostling her on the way down the birth canal. When Niamh plucked away the sac containing her, Alyx expelled fluid with a cough, just as expected, and began whimpering right on cue. She curled her tiny bulbous body in on itself exactly like she was supposed to when the cool air from outside touched her back. When placed alongside Niamh, where body heat quickly chased the chill away, she latched onto a teat and nursed greedily the way that instinct dictated she should.

Yep, she was the poster child for a flawless birth. After drinking her fill of rich colostrum, the newborn babe rolled sluggishly onto her side, stretched out her sausage-esque legs, and fell immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Life was pretty copacetic in the womb, until it wasn't. It became crammed and tight and uncomfortable, and Quetzal was done with it. What else was there to do but riot? And riot she did. Relentlessly. WE RIDE AT DAWN???? NO. WE RIDE NOW. This joint was not big enough for the three of them any longer, and Quetzal was over it. 

In the womb, Quetzal did all manners of things until things did get moving. Even then she could not be stopped. Her paws pounded against proverbial gates, let me out!!!! let me oouuutttt! ...but of course none of that was really happening. Just little flailing kicks against the sac. Poor Alyx, or maybe Primrose, probably was on the receiving end of one or two.

Experiencing her first waterslide was the opposite of fun. This was a ride she wanted off of, STAT. She hated it, and the cold afterward was not worth it. While Alyx was picture perfect, Quetzal then and there was an absolute pest. Could she get a refund? No? Why the hell not? Oh, because she got on the ride? Well, the ride sucked, and she wanted to speak to a manager. 

What was that? Free food for her troubles? ...Fine. That was all it really took to shut Q up now, and so she settled alongside Alyx. This would do. Settled, Q was quiet as she ate her fill until she passed out.

Niamh's pregnancy had been a very different experience for Figment than Towhee's. Which, I mean, obviously it was going to be. Towhee hadn't been aware of hers until one of her turds had suddenly sprouted limbs and started squeaking. But the unexpectedness of it didn't mean there hadn't been a pregnancy for the yearling to have witness. And it didn't mean he wasn'table to garner an appreciation for just how vastly different each woman's pregnancy could be. 

I started this post like forty-five minutes and can't remember where I was going with that.

Anyway.

It had been very strange for him to see Niamh through all of this. Watching her stomach slowly expand, knowing he had siblings in there that were causing it with their own growth, knowing that one day soon they would explode out of her. When he really let himself think about it, he was utterly horrified by the idea. Fortunately, he'd been able to discipline his mind to stay away from thoughts like that. That was, up until the day Niamh gave birth. That made it a whole lot harder to not think about her giving birth.

When Fig had stopped by and seen all the... tension-riddled... whatever... going on, he had wisely dropped the rabbit he had caught for his family somewhere nearby and headed out. He hadn't known at that point that Niamh was actually going to give birth shortly, but he'd gone ahead and resolved to just steer clear until she did, even if it took a few more days. Weeks. Months. Whatever. That all looked like a mess.

When Bronco's call came, though, Fig had eagerly answered. Whatever awkwardness and anxiety he'd felt leading up to the arrival of his siblings disappeared in the moment he heard the announcement, so he arrived on the scene with only a big smile and a happily wagging tail. "Bronco! Everything okay?" he asked as he stepped up to his stepbrother, peeking towards the mouth of the den while still respectfully keeping his distance.

Just gonna destroy any semblance of post order given the fact this is going on outside the den :)

Bronco kept one ear turned back toward the den's mouth, and could hear quiet voices inside, along with the occasional little gurgle or squeal. He was curious to see more of those little sound-makers, but was well aware of the fact that he hadn't been invited in yet, really. He knew his mother well enough to remember how protective she'd been of him and Nellie, and she'd been so quick and brutal with kicking him out earlier...He wasn't interested in provoking her, not with a fresh batch of babies. 

Fortunately, it seemed Figment had heard his call as he was the first to come and visit. Bronco, who hadn't been given the order to allow anyone past him, stayed where he was, and made clear the fact that he was a sentry without feeling the need to block the den entrance any more than he already was. Figment looked pleased, and Bronco returned the smile, though he could feel a few hairs along his shoulderblades bristle slightly. From excitement? Maybe. From some sort of protective instinct? Also very possible. This was his step-brother, and those kids were just as related to him as they were to Bronco. Selfishly, he still felt that he had some sort of status, being Niamh's son, and given the fact that he'd simply been there first, and had been deigned the guardian. Still- he was happy to see Figment turn up, and was glad he didn't just try to breeze on into the den. 

"Everything's good," He affirmed. "Ma's doin' fine. She had a boy, an' two girls." He said. He glanced over his shoulder, but kept his attention on Figment, as he knew both of them should stay where they are until his mother said otherwise. "Dunno about names yet, but they seem pretty healthy an' happy," He said. The ambiguity in his tone would make it fairly clear that even he had yet to spend any time with the babies- but he sounded optimistic about it, at least, and content to stay where he was.

Dark. Warmth. A steady distant thurm-thrum in his ears.

And then—cold silence.

The infant found displeasure in this. Where was the warmth? The steady beat he had grown used to? He tried lifting his head, but it was far too heavy for his tiny neck and he was far too tired to keep trying. Thus... he had no choice but to let out a wailing scream that was cut off by a choked snort as he rid his lungs of excess fluid. But with that deed done he continued on with his little temper tantrum before being nosed and rolled over.

He didn't know who or what he was. Where he was. Or that the current sensation flooding around him was the nurturing licks of his mother. The only thing he knew was that he pissed.

That was... until he was pushed back into the warmth and greedily found a teet to suck upon.

Most of the time, Towhee didn't mind her deafness, nor notice it particularly. There were occasions where she missed things because of it, of course, though usually nothing particularly significant. Today, however, it made her late to a very important party. When she arrived at the den site—the destination of Meerkat's very first foray away from the whelping den—not only did she find it occupied but crowded. And as she looked around in bewilderment, it slowly dawned on her that Niamh must have given birth.

A strange feeling briefly curdled in her breast, though it was quickly swept away by excitement and joy at this unexpected development. She had only meant to bring Meerkat here for a quick visit, just the two of them. She turned her focus to the beige pup who had plopped her butt on one of Towhee's forepaws and was now gazing around at the gathering with wide, curious eyes. Her daughter had never before seen so many wolves at once, so Towhee thought she might be overwhelmed. But if that was the case, Meerkat quickly overcame it and bounded forward, laughing and smiling as she batted at the nearest wolf's leg and began excitedly signing, -Hi!- over and over.

The Regent's attention remained fixed on Meerkat for a moment before deciding she had never been so well supervised. So she sought out Phox, spying his silhouette through the den's door. Hanging back a yard or so, Towhee said, -"Congrats,"- before asking, -"how're mom and babies doing?"- Of course, she wanted to know all the particulars, though she knew she didn't have to ask; he would fill her in on the newest additions who would one day know her as Towma.

Phox kept his eyes locked on the three little pups—his three little pups—as Niamh spoke. His gaze drifted to the boy when she spoke of him, then the two little girls who he realized had his (and Figment's) pattern, though with a slightly more bronze—or maybe gold—dusting. They could have been the ugliest things on Earth, and Phox would have thought nothing of it. They weren't, of course. Each and every one of the three was exactly wonderful.

He heard as Bronco sent out the call, and Phox listened as others started to gather and chatter amongst themselves (namely Figment and Bronco). Towhee was the next to arrive, and Phox could hear the pitter-patter of Meerkat's feet as well. Her voice came next, and Phox's ears perked forward. For the first time since he'd come in, he took his eyes of the three kids and looked toward the den's mouth.

She probably couldn't see him from where he was, but Phox had an idea on how he could talk to her from here. @Figment, tell Towhee everybody's doing well. Niamh's tired, and there are three! One boy, two girls.

Fig hadn't even realized he was worried until Bronco's reassurance made him breathe a sigh of relief. He felt a jolt of pleasure at hearing how many there were--two girls and a boy! Three siblings! And one of them a brother! Fig took a moment to marvel over the idea of having a brother (while looking directly at his stepbrother, sorry dude) before shaking his head and snapping back into the present. His ears perked as he heard the sound of little squeaks and little grunts and he chuckled. "They sound healthy and happy," he commented with a grin as he gazed into the darkness.

It occurred to him suddenly that he wanted to hug Bronco. Or hug someone. He wondered if that would be weird. Then Towhee arrived with Meerkat, helping him sidestep that altogether. "Hey, little shoes!" Fig greeted enthusiastically, sliding onto his stomach to make his face more accessible for his sister's affectionate mauling. He blinked back towards the den as Phox gave instructions, then reached to bat at Towhee's paw to get her attention so he could relay the information.

-"Everyone's fine,"- he said and signed, trying to avoid Meerkat who I like to think was indeed trying to maul him but I'll leave that up to Kat, -"There are three--A boy and two girls. Niamh is tired, but fine. Haven't heard any names yet."- He added the latter with a glance at Bronco, then turned his attention back.

Phox called out, alerting those outside that the children were fine. Aside from their objections, now that they were in a much different world than the one they'd lived in before, their cries and mewls were soft and gentle as she tucked them in toward her side where they could nurse. They rebelled against this new state, until they realized the comfort that still surrounded them. And she hoped that it might always be this way- that they would rage and fight for everything they needed, and that they would find everything they could ever ask for in the world of family that would always surround them. 

Gonna archive this soonly, I think :)