Boartusk Heights [b] te sueño despierta

Mature Content Warning

This 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: birth, ableism and infanticide !!! beware beware

it came first like a whisper that reyna didn't hear. she woke in a sweat to see the last moments of sun, yet she sat still, frozen. it took a moment for the queen's shriek of agony to announce that the first children were coming. only @Paloma was permitted to witness her birth, commanded so by the belligerent woman, and the chamber was closed off.
reyna remembers quickly being adjusted and comforted by the sole maid, and then being told to push. she strains with all of her might to bring her children, her heirs, to the world.
and now, she must choose which deserve to stay in it.

she reawakens on a freshly prepared pelt, and while throbs of pain still ran in tandem with her heartbeat, she could finally see the six little bodies wriggling like maggots against her belly. they yearned for milk, but reyna denies it when suddenly lifting herself from bed. they must've already drank while she lay asleep, she clicks her tongue at the thought. though her legs tremble and her vision swirls, reyna continues her duty. thoroughly, any imperfections are scanned for: mutations, weakness, size, etc. she watched as they bumped into and fought against each other in search for milk with such vigor. all except for two. a shiver sneaks into the chamber. for a moment, she hesitates, staring at the small pair but knew what must be done.
the runts are smaller, frailer than their siblings, their blood and will to survive weak. so quickly the two weak links are separated from the rest, and her voice is a whisper as reyna refers quietly to paloma. her eyes heavy, her mane frazzled, but the queen sharpens as she prepares her order.
..take them, drown them in the river, or drop them off the ravine.. just.. she strains, even speaking hurt the new mother. kill them. and if any are to ask, they were born dead. in girlhood, she was trained that she must choose only one heir, and kill the rest. so this decision is a mercy to her four chosen. she places the runts into the skin of the rabbit that flaithri had given to her, something pricking her eye as the pelt smothers their continued cries for a mother they'll never have. the pelt is handed off to paloma, and reyna wipes the memory of the children with one dab to clean her eyes, and returns to those that remain.

only after she watches paloma leave with the children and return with an empty pelt does reyna then accept visitors to watch the christening, though she doesn't bother calling for nivis. cradling those that passed her test, she counts the bodies that now suckle at her belly. three pale, one dark. all the most promising children. the ghost of a woman sat still, reeling from pain before continuing her duty. her first blessing is given to the dark cub and the sole boy of this litter, licking his body to wipe him of the filth that reminded her he had come from a mortal and not a god.
@Vincent.. she declares gently, encouraging visitors to come closer with a bob of her head. the rest were her daughters, pale as the moon. she blesses the second daughter the one that most resembles her. @Valeria. the queen purred, amused at the sight. the other two were close, but not quite. she brought forth the one whose heart burns a crimson flame, deciding her as third born. @Candela.. and.. the last girl with the hints of black that stained her pale coat. @Nymphora.
only with their names and pecking order declared does reyna finally settle and rest her eyes.

pls let paloma, and then the babies post first! afterwards, cameos are encouraged.

AN: this is not the actual birth order. the real order would've been valeria, nymphora, vincent, candela.
atm, its most likely middle of the night.

She was covered in blood, slime and feeling very sticky when her little body slithered out of her mother’s womb. It wasn’t known to her yet, but one day it was gonna become the highest honor she could have—being the first born. Her pride and the disgusting truth highlighting her already noble status.

She couldn’t yet see, but for now though being born alive was enough. The hit of the fresh air made her cry, and then the hunger called her insane as she kicked her little legs, trying to just at least find some solace in her mother’s hold. Soon enough, with the help and maybe a lick to her already wet noodle body, she rested herself in a warm embrace, crying still for some more attention despite. God granted her life, yet there could always be more to receive.

Reyna was her blessing, her world. Everything, and the chosen one who determines whether or not her heart beats. Truthfully though the world was much larger and there was a lot to explore, a lot to discover, however in the near future her mother could provide so just fine.

Valeria was born.

the girl with the bleeding heart, born one among many. fate had decided she would be a quiet bundle, even as her siblings were picked over, and some were carried away never to be known. her first instinct was to drink.

she sought to do so with her little mouth agape, writhing, reaching, but not crying for help; and as she settled her mouth across something, she would pinch down her lips and take a heavy drag. except, it was another sibling she was grappling with, and still there was no sustenance.

only now did she make a peep, her voice flickering in the dark—singing the song of need.

Paloma did not need to scramble herself together the moment Reyna began her screaming. The maid had been preparing for this moment since the very first weeks of Paloma's pregnancy, once they were certain it would stick. 

A number of herbs were at the ready, in order which they should be taken during the process: to encourage labor, ease pain, slow bleeding... Meat that had been dried by laying in rocks in the sun was stored for when Reyna woke later with hunger. There was water in a scratched out chunk of wood. Reyna's collection of furs had been shaken out and laid. Even some of Paloma's own plush coat had been pulled out in chunks, to further make Reyna's nest more comfortable as well as ease some of Paloma's own nerves as rhe due date approached. 

Paloma would snap anyone right in the face who dared try to come in despite her Queen's command. She calls for @Flaithrí with a hope that he would stand outside in the role as guard. Reyna had seem to take to him, after all. 

Reyna would cry out again and again. Paloma would beckon her Mistress and beckon her further. One came, two came, three- another, another and another...! It was no wonder that Reyna nearly passed out from the exertion and Paloma took the opportunity to remove bloodied rags, shuffle the children to her mother's side and quietly accessed each of them. Only one could be heir. Only one may be chosen. Many lives which would be sacfriced in the name of La Muerte. 

Yet when Reyna rises and makes her decision, it is the two smallest which were obviously picked. Yet, four to be remained. Paloma takes a quiet breath, happy that Reyna decides against her former culture. Only those of obvious weakness would be culled this day. The kingdom was blessed with four, strong young. 

The little handmaiden takes the bundled skin quickly as she is directed and swiftly exits the densite. She would not allow her Mistress to suffer another instant at the sight of her ruined few progeny. 

She heads for the quickest method, a ledge along the mountains, making certain no one is in view. She settled the fur bundle, opening it which causes coos and then squeals from the children as cold air hits their squirming little bodies. Well, one squirming. The other, well, it didn't seem to move much at all. Maybe she could eat them? No sense wasting good meat to some lesser scavenger. She could, if anything, have a little piece of Reyna inside of her for a time. Yet, the decision had been made. The innocent, virgin blood would be made sacrifice. Goodbye, little ones. And with a flick of her white toes, and another, allowed the two rounded little bundles to roll right off the cliff. 

As quick as she left was as quick as she returned, settling herself down with a pleasant grin as her Mistress announced the new royal arrivals.

Nymphora came later, beat to the punch by a sister cloaked in golden drapery. Perhaps she'd even been the one to boot her out.

Oh second daughter, how will you cope?

But this one... This one did not come without a fight, and when she did roll onto the cushioned bed of moss, finally spurred from the grasp of her mother's womb, Nymphora came out with much fuss spewed to the air around her. She whined and squealed, as much as tiny lungs would allow her to. Quiet would only come when she would instinctively reach out for her mother, beginning her next battle, that of finding a teat to latch onto. 

Hues of ash stained her peachy hide, impurities starkly noticed as she lays, or rather, rolls and flails alongside her moonlit sisters, making the desperate fight for milk all the much harder for the others. 

Fresh into the world, Nymphora was born, and her namesake offered with naught but a mere glance and idle touch. 

Fresh into the world, this one screamed

Look at me.

The litter was comprised of contrasting parts – three babies quiet, the other three loud, some wiggled incessantly, two others were still, and finally, amongst the pale coats of his siblings, one resided among them, dark like an ink spot on a white page.

Like he somehow knew the violent Nocturne tradition of culling the weak and the spares, Vincent is born thrashing and writhing as if trying to prove his worth to be heir. His tiny lungs cried – no, demanded – for air and milk. He is cleaned by the handmaiden and moved to be with his sisters, and there he eagerly searched for a teat, latching on greedily with no regard for the others as he peddled his legs and smushed his face in as close to it as possible. In time, he would learn table manners.

Unbeknownst to the four children, the two that had failed Reyna's scrutiny were removed, the spaces they left behind quickly filled with the ones who thrived. Survived.

When the handmaiden returned from the bloody affair, the rest of the pack was then called to bear witness to the royal line of pups and their christening. While he had been fashionably late to the party – not the first, but definitely not the last – Vincent was the first to be bestowed a name by their mother, a fact that would bring him great delight should he ever learn it.

With as smug of an expression a newborn could actually have, the boy cooed gently as he felt a warmth trace his spine, gently smoothing down the fur there and removing whatever ick remained. It was then he reattached himself to a teat to drink until full, kneading his mother's belly fur, content.

Nivis comes back in the dead night when it’s the most peaceful, and when the innocent sleeps in the confines of their lounges. 

From the distance he smells the blood and hears the screams, however instead of motivated to rush to help, he prolongs his journey. Those legs of his hurt and besides, there are better people to serve the queen. If his mother was here, she’d make sure to remind him so.  

Eventually Reyna’s cry for help ceases and the smell of blood intensifies, signaling it’s safe to return back home. The short lasting silence is soon however replaced by a sweet melody. It’s a lullaby to soothe to sleep—one that’s strangely familiar, and so Nivis feels like he is a part of a dream. With that thought he risks it all, walking the path back home. 

Like a curious child, his hand carefully touches the door’s handle of the luxurious mansion. Its size is massive and too heavy to push open, crushing his dream to make his mother proud. More, more—from this distance the song sounds like its sung directly into his ear and so he squeezes his head through the small gap to hear better. 

She gave birth. Reyna gave birth. He stares, 

and feels nothing. 

Nobody notices him; he if hopeful. Good! Perhaps, hopeful they would. They smell shit: crosses his mind first as he observes those rats suckle and kick their little feet against their mother’s full belly. He should be the one kicking against it! He should be the one kissing her asleep, not them! Ah, he cries now. Dramatic and pitiful. Mother, bye! Goodnight, father! Goodnight, Reyna.  

I miss you. 

Great, now his head hurts. The door is left untouched, though he wishes it would close. No more running, he promised, yet somehow he still walks away. I can’t do so, tired too… I am. I’ve always been, so bad. Bed, there it is. My home, where I belong. Sleep too deep, I shall. 

He is a father now, he realizes… And hmm… it’s so wrong.

still open! those who've already posted don't need to respond again, only if you want to <3

her joy as mother is brief. the scent of their father enters the palace, but the tired new mother could only bristle her fur and hold her children close to her belly. though, in case he had come to see them, she made sure that at least their plump little bodies were visible so that he may see.

a twinge of fear followed after noticing nivis' presence. did he know what she had done?
her eyes close, determined to not dwell on that which could not be changed.