Noctisardor Bypass a pelican leaps from chair to chair

As irked as she’d felt with him during her labor—particularly considering his treatment of Etienne—Druid knew it wasn’t right to keep @Glaukos from his children. After selfishly keeping them to herself for the first day, she stepped out first thing the next morning to relieve herself, a wholly unpleasant business now. She distracted herself by calling for the bearish man.

Then she slipped back inside the den, where @Heda kept the newborns warm. Druid settled herself down beside @Kikimora, @Goldfinch, @Artio and @Averie, nuzzling each small head. Her deeper feelings toward them were complicated, though she let her instincts guide her just like she guided the pups to latch, feed and grow strong.

Kikimora existed quietly, sleeping more than anything. She was a pitiful little thing, deprived in the womb to have her appear as though half the size of her largest sibling. Unaware of her disadvantage and the potential to be shunted to the bottom of a future pecking order, the down-furred babe was content nestled among her brother and sisters.

There was movement around them, the transfer of guardianship, and Kikimora gave a little wriggle as she parted her jaws in a yawn.

Averie, on the other hand, just couldn't find the will to stay put. Especially when their second den mother lay down in her mother's usual resting spot. The little girl squeaked, then proceeded to squirm, wiggle, and work her gummy mouth all over this newer wolf - exploring, in every puppy sense of the word.

Here, she hit an obstruction in her path to maw at every part of this stranger. Brother or sister - sleeping, wiggling, eating - and with a huff she shoved herself in a crawl right over them - 

And proceeded to get herself stuck on top of the sibling who got in her way. Another huff, but no cry yet. She simply paddled at the air with her paws - she could do this herself! - as the den shifted around her, and her mother's presence flooded the space again.

He had been content where he laid, like a stranded turtle laying on its shell. Many movements, wiggles, and jostling occurred around him and over him, with a sudden weight on top of him. One of his sisters, he didn’t know which beyond the fact he knew it wasn’t the smallest of them, seemed to have gotten herself stuck. Any other pup would have squawked their annoyance, but not him. No, he remained there, happy where he was, regardless of the extra weight.

His paws worked to knead at the body there, uncaring if it was welcome or not. It soothed him to care for something else other than eating and sleeping—and pooping, of course. He had also found himself snuggled closest to the smallest of his siblings. It felt instinctual, his want to protect and covet his sisters. He couldn’t imagine being overbearing, but he felt in his heart that his sisters were his to protect and love. 

He had known that the large figure surrounding them had not been their mother, but he had not minded. She had been there when they entered the world, he recognized her scent, and he knew that she was also a comforting, motherly figure. But, he knew the moment Mother returned, and he tried, in vain, to roll his rather robust body over. It did not work, the weight of his sister kept him in place. He squealed in delight at his mothers touch, his paws waving in the air to grab for her. He deflated a little when they did not find purchase.

He kept away, as told. Glaukos kept watch of the Rivenwood entrance and saw no sign of the interloper (Anselm) or the healer (Etienne) despite the work he had put in to provide a healer for the sisters. Now, with Druid giving birth (or maybe she'd finally gotten that out of her system) he was pacing restlessly, unable to focus on his work.

Had the healer been to see the woman? Not to his knowledge.

As he grew more restless, Glaukos moved to another section of Rivenwood for his patrol or to hunt, he wasn't sure, he only had excess energy to burn; and by the time he'd settled some of that, he heard the summons by Druid; and with a small, stern huff he marched for the den.

Before long he was there at the entrance, rumbling an answer but not yet entering.

She watched them squirm and climb over one another for a moment. Then stubby little arms reached for her and Druid bent to try mouthing them into formation, all four of them tucked side by side in front of a teat. Would it last? Would it even work at all? Her gaze lingered on the smallest girl, giving her a few extra nudges to get her to latch. She needed the nourishment most of all.

A shadow fell over the threshold, accompanied by a low rumble. Druid did not look up but woofed back, welcoming Glaukos to step inside. She remained bent over the newborns, tapping into some maternal instinct to tend to them even as a strange sense of detachment crept over her, unsettling the new mother.

Whatever fear Kikimora had felt soon after birth had been long forgotten, and she was unphased by the commotion of her siblings as she lounged sleepily among them. Warmth and the inviting scent of milk returned to the litter, which served as a welcome distraction.

The arrival of another into the den went unnoticed. Kikimora paddled either side of a teat with pitiful little paws to free milk into her eager maw, content and oblivious.

Some moments later, Artio found himself pressed up against his mother’s belly, a teat slapping him in the face amongst the jostling of squirming little bodies. He gave a puppy equivalent of a belly laugh, finding it absolutely hilarious, then gave off a battle cry. The offending teat was his to battle, and battle it, he did. He pawed it, trading punches before making it submit to him. He latched, and happy triumphant noises could be heard by all.

The Battle of the Teat occupied his thoughts, he had not noticed the masculine scent of the burly man that stood sentry at the doorway of their den.

Eager to avoid his claustrophobia, Glaukos would not go too far within the den. He loomed with his nose just past the threshold and got a good sniff of the air, which was almost rancid with all the puppy scents, and then withdrew.

They seemed to be doing well - all of them, including Druid. He settled to his haunches and called in to the dark, Do you need anything?

It shocked her when the single boy attacked her nipple. Druid supposed a voracious appetite was a good sign, though his little gums were surprisingly painful. Her body had already been through so much these past twenty-four hours, it brought tears to her eyes.

Flummoxed by her own physiological reactions, she reached up to toe away the moisture. She saw Glaukos’s head pop into the den, only to retreat. Druid blinked, eyes squinting at the glare once his shadow stopped casting across the doorway.

“Do you need anything?”

She looked down at the pups, then over at Heda, then back toward the door. Didn’t he want to come inside and meet them properly? Didn’t he want to help her name them? A lump formed in her throat.

You can come inside, she whispered, wondering if he was hesitant due to the previous day’s display, if you want. Even more faintly, she added, You’re their father.

She invited him closer, but he didn't move.

It wouldn't be suitable to show weakness, even here (especially here); with not just Druid to hear the truth but Heda too. He caught the shrinking of her voice and with that as a prompt, looked down at the squirming bodies.

I can see them fine from here. Steel in his spine. A fleeting glance away from them and towards the den walls, a shift of his shoulders. They're healthy? You're healthy?

Just nudging this along, plz skip from here on  <3

Kikimora drank for only a short time, feeling her tiny limbs tire quickly from paddling. She released her grip on the teat she'd been suckling from and turned her milk-stained snout away, shuffling among the other little bodies to seek a warm place to snooze while the adults communicated.

It looks like Artio dropped and this is pretty outdated now, so I figured we could wrap?

She didn’t know why it bothered her that he wouldn’t even come inside to meet his son and daughters. He’d come across as ambivalent sometimes during her pregnancy but Druid realized his indifference hadn’t ended with their arrival. This left her feeling hollower than the delivery itself.

Druid was a far cry from anyone’s definition of healthy, though she peered at the children through suddenly damp eyes. Excepting the one little girl, they were chunky and cherubic. And there were four of them; she still hadn’t gotten over her shock at that.

They’re perfect, she answered him faintly, bending to gently clean the runt’s face before nosing among the others.

It was true. Even if their father didn’t want to meet and christen them. Even if their mother felt increasingly numb as she gazed upon them. In the eye of the storm between hyperemesis gravidarum and postpartum depression, she recognized that truth. They were perfect.