Bearclaw Valley seal the clouds with grey lining

laurel & pups will be moved to their own den at the end of the birth thread :) all welc but some pups would b nice!

It had been a relief when @Indra and @Xan had moved her to a den of her own when her pups had decided to come into the world prematurely. The latter she would not allow to see the pups right now; they were tiny and fragile and she did not want him near. He had hurt her enough, she thought, and to be stuck here feeling much like her mother (though unbeknownst to her, it was Xan's proper mate that was most like her mother in the situation). Betrayed by him and hateful that he should hurt her like he did. She had felt trapped throughout her pregnancy and now, with small pups cradled to her teats, Laurel felt little different. They were tiny but they had survived, the three of them that were there now, and Laurel would give them anything to make sure that they would live. A fourth had been there but she had died throughout the birth.

The first two were whiteish and ruddy, a boy and a girl, that she had named @Lucas -- the first born -- and @Piper -- the second born. Then the pup that was born dead and lastly, there was a black pup that she had called @Wyatt. Indra she allowed near them whenever she wanted to and Indra was also the one that took care of her and was often around to keep guard while the tired mother slept and rested up. Laurel awoke feeling tired and groggy from the sound of a soft mewling, and she looked down to see which of the pups was making noise.

While Laurel presumably slept, Indra kept sentinel outside the den, still and as prim as some victorian sculpure. She was relieved to have located -- she wanted no part in helping Laurel rear her children alongside them .


Her mind was still on overdrive, but as night settled into morning her tensions calmed and she headed to the cache, extracting a frozen grouse from the stony keep. She paused under the mouth of the den lest Laurel did not want company -- tentatively she brought her offering to her exhausted sister, her amber eyes soft with worry. Three whelps rested contently against Laurel's flank - the sight of them moved her in a way she had never experienced before.

It was the ruddy girl that was mewling, and Laurel nudged her towards a teat in hopes of silencing her for a bit. When she looked up Laurel saw her sister's worried eyes and she smiled wearily at Indra. "Hey aunt In," she said with an inviting smile. Laurel didn't really feel inviting towards anyone at the moment, but she would never turn away Indra. She hadn't forgotten about the friendly gesture the dumb girl'd made and maybe, just maybe, some of the bridges burnt could be rebuilt at some point, but Laurel was glad nevertheless to be out and about in her own den, where it was no one but her, the pups and Indra.

"Thanks," said Laurel as she accepted the food from the cache, glad to have something to eat. Xan often came by with food, often fresh, but Indra's offerings still tasted a lot less bitter to Laurel than the father of her children's. It was beyond her how he even thought he could be a dad to them if he was always with his real mate aside from offering her some scraps to eat. "How's the outside world?" She sure hadn't seen much of it. She thought of asking about Blondine -- it hadn't gone completely unnoticed a different medic had attended the birth -- but decided against it. She wanted the time with the pups to be happy time, not talking-about-shitty-shit-that-happens-to-us time.

cameo for visibility unless y'all wanna engage her!

she had given the girl her space since her abrupt labor, but she could not help the bud of hope that welled forth in her chest.  perhaps whatever had transpired between bearclaw's matriarch and the redleaf girls could be forgiven, even if it could not be forgotten.  

she left the pups with @Xan and tracked down the largest prey animal she could find — spring had settled in and food was getting fatter.  she was lucky enough to find an exhausted doe; labor had not gone well for her and unfortunately, she would not make it.

she did not want to think about whatever omen that might be.  

she cleaned it up well enough to guise what had felled the doe and gathered more bushels of lavender, dragging both of them to laurel's whelping den.  she did not dare come too close, instead she left them near enough that indra could grab them and then turned a nervous heel back to her children.

The second born pup was far too young to understand concepts of kindness, or the rare chance to witness something unexpected like an old rival bringing food and calming plants to another mother in need. Piper did not know of the loving aunt who guarded the outside of the den through each passing day and night, or the resounding devotion that the two sisters felt for each other. The red piebald pup knew only that her mother was the most familiar scent – aside from Thing One (Lucas) and Thing Two (Wyatt) – and she was comfortable nestled beside the warmth of it. It was the loud young girl who had made the mewling noise. She had lifted her head upward and parted her lips to release a cry of delight before she puttered around, aiming to find something pleasant that she could curl up beside. Still blind as a bat, Piper could not have determined the differences between a grizzly bear and a possum if she were two inches from either one. She scooted herself a few inches before she mewled again in the form of a demand for assistance.

indra was relieved to see laurel eat -- as she stepped back outside of the den's threshold, she cast a singular ear back to observe the happenings behind her. the pups still nursed and squirmed (one even squalled loudly), but all in all, the den seemed settled with some long-at-last tranquility. it was much needed.

she hadn't really considered how coop-bound laurel was until she asked how the world outside was. indra afforded a quiet smile and looked about, noting the cheerless cover of clouds and the fact that winter still clung to the valley. "same as always. cold." the humor drained from her face as she saw a shape in the distance -- she stiffened, expression taut as she watched the form break from the cover of trees.

it was dragging something -- indra felt her hackles rifle in protective emotion, but did not rise. her gaze hardened as she recognized who it was -- but still, she did not rise. let the woman expend what energy she wanted so long as she did not approach them -- indra turned back to laurel silently, wondering if she had caught witness of what had just transpired.

Laurel looked down at the girl who was making sounds somewhere between a mewl and a squall and she smiled. They were so tiny and fragile right now. For now she ate while Indra kept guard. Her response to the question was disheartening, for although their outlook was bleak Laurel felt optimistic. Maybe it was these newborn miracles that had made her feel better about her life, or maybe it was because she knew that she would do anything to make their lives good. They had brought her a determination and fighting spirit that she had lost somewhere along the line throughout her pregnancy and Xan's mateship. They gave her a reason to fight again -- not just for them, but for herself and Indra, too.

"It'll all be alright," Laurel promised. "I will make it alright." Before she had any chance to see Indra's response something happened outside. She glanced outside, fur along her neck bristling defensively when she picked up Xan's mate's scent. But she also brought with her the scent of food and the sweet fragrance of lavender. This was all rather confusing but before Laurel had any chance to react the girl was already gone again.

Her sister looked back at her and Laurel blinked in confusion. "What did she want..?" she asked, not having seen what happened so having to go mostly on scent. She hadn't forgotten the kindness of allowing her inside of the whelping den for the birthing, even though Laurel hadn't wanted to, and wondered if maybe not all bridges were burnt. She would never be good friends so long as she was Xan's mate, but maybe they could be not-enemies at some point (and maybe she could convince the girl some day that Xan was a stupid jack-ass who didn't deserve her love).

u guys can def skip over me and i can find places to toss little posts into <3

The days before the birth of the Redleaf trio had been difficult and tasking on their mother and their aunt, but Piper wasn’t aware of this in any stretch of reality. All she knew was that she had teetered just a bit too far form her mother’s reach and she was not getting the attention that she needed to get back where she belonged. If Piper’s eyes worked well enough to see the soft smile that was afforded to her both Laurel, she would have stood aghast that her own mother would ignore her pleas for warmth and nourishment. The heat-seeker was starting to feel the chill that swept across the den floor and she shuddered against it with an alarming squeak and then a cry that stretched on far too long for her weak lungs to have managed. When she had finished making noise, the Redleaf girl waited impatiently for her mother to tend to her needs; she only wanted food and warmth so that she could return to sleep after her hard day of circling in the same general area.

indra's jaw tightened as she listened to laurel promise her -- it'll be alright -- i'll make it alright. but indra was so tired of only alright, so run down and ragged; they had carved a bleak existence here in the valley, and the constant threat of confrontation had finally exacted its toll on the russet redleaf. she wanted out - for her safety, for laurel's -- for the squealing babes that did not deserve this sorry future.

she lifted her muzzle tentatively, detecting the kill and a strange floral scent. lavender. her gaze slid back to laurel and she got up stiffly. "i don't know. dropped off something, looks like a deer." stiff-legged and suspicious, indra stepped over to the slain beast. it was wrong of her, but her first assumption was that this meat could somehow be poisoned -- hadn't she once offered an olive branch laced with sickly plumes?

she sniffed the carcass warily, but found nothing in it that suggested foul play. with a grunt she clapsed the cervine's neck and dragged it back to the den.

Laurel was confused why she would receive such a generous offering but she decided not to question it for she could use the food. Indra dragged the food back to her and Laurel eagerly grabbed a piece to dig in. She was hungry a lot, throughout her pregnancy but even moreso now that the pups were born. "Strange," she said in between gulps but she left it at that for she was just happy with the offerings.

"They are so precious," said Laurel then as she looked back at the pups in between bites. "I'm glad they've got such a caring aunt." Her tail waved briefly and she looked at the girl, who let out an alarmed squeak. Laurel left the food alone for a moment and grabbed the girl, dragging it closer to the warmth of her breast where her siblings were too.

indra realized she had forgotten the lavender. she stirred from her brief supine position and sauntered towards the spot where the plants had been dropped, one ear canted behind her all the while. her head dipped in a nod of acknowledgement as laurel mused on the meaning of the gift -- she agreed, it was strange.

she dropped the bundle of lavender on the ground, not so far from the spot laurel often nursed her children. she was glad to be rid of the plant, for it left a sour taste in her mouth. she thumbed the roof of her mouth with her tongue and considered what laurel had just said -- she could not help but bitterly reply: "a caring aunt isn't a substitute for a father." she mused with a frown, her gaze falling on the three lives she loved with a fierce love she had never known. "has he tried?

It was a bit hurtful to see Indra this way, especially considering Laurel was feeling much better. She had a game plan: Raise pups, get over post-pregnancy stiffness, claim Alphaship -- or leave, if she lost that challenge, once the pups were big enough to travel -- one way or another and set them on their rightful place as heirs. It wasn't that she did not understand her sister's worrying. Laurel had worried and hated a lot in her life, but somehow when she looked at the teeny faces of her teeny babies with their teeny smiles and coughs and sneezles, the world wasn't such a complicated and painful place. She had something to fight for.

The subject of Xan roused her unhappiness somewhat, for Laurel remembered their last proper conversation too well. She did not allow him near the pups -- though if he would try harder, she might, but not try harder for them, but for her -- so there was little space to be a father, for now. "I don't want to see him. He brings food but that's it. He can see them and be their father when he decides to love all of this family." Her eyes shone with emotion as she spoke, and she meant the words. She was too afraid that he would take them from her, that he'd fill their heads with lies or that he would make them think of his mate as their mother. Laurel wouldn't take that risk.

fade for a new one when you're back?

indra knew her sister well enough to know her bitter comment had stung -- she regretted its utterance immediately. her ears fell and she adopted a contrite look, searching a moment for laurel's hazel gaze in silent apology.

she could understand and certainly sympathize with laurel's sentiments regarding the alpha; indra shared them, though for different reasons. she had her own reservations on the possibility of him ever treating laurel the way she deserved, but kept her lips firmly shut. with a soft smile she nodded as if to say i understand and rose, pressing her muzzle briefly to laurel's cheek before stepping towards the felled deer.

it took a few hearty tugs to get it out of the den, but indra saw to it that the remains were cached nearby. it would last them a few days, at least. before she cached the carrion she clipped both ears from the doe's finely sculpted skull - two playthings intended for the puppies.