Dragoncrest Cliffs Our hearts beat as one, butterfly

In the starlit hours following the birth, there was a sense of wonder and fulfillment, in spite of Antler's loss. Wildfire fought to keep her eyes open despite her exhaustion, smiling down at her sons and daughter, marveling at these new lives she had brought into the world. Every so often, she glanced at her mate, her chest feeling like it might explode with the sense of pure, unbridled love she felt for their young family. They were perfect. Everything was perfect. And nothing hurt.

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The sound of birds chirping woke the new mother from a deep sleep. Before her eyes opened, Wildfire unleashed an involuntary groan. Her whole body ached and burned, specifically her nether regions. Gingerly, she lifted her head and sat up, accidentally dislodging several of the pups who had been feeding. The Bandrona blinked owlishly as they tumbled, then began to fuss. Her ears flattened and she winced. Automatically, she dropped back onto her elbows and began nudging the crying cubs toward her belly.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she watched them root around in search of teats. She could have helped them but Wildfire just sat there and stared, feeling oddly disconnected. The pups finally latched and the den went quiet, though the weird hollowness Wildfire felt did not abate. In fact, the out-of-place sense of dismay only worsened with each passing second, as her chestnut eyes roved over the litter and she suddenly felt a strong impulse to drop them off with Portia and then run toward the nearest horizon.

The Bandrona fidgeted, drawing in and letting out a deep, shaky breath. The pregnancy had gone smoothly and even the labor and delivery had been a dream. Wildfire had everything she'd ever wanted. So why did she suddenly feel so sad and overwhelmed?

She spent the rest of the night nearby. Wildfire and the puppies (for the most part) stayed in her vision until she finally found a state of mind where she could drift off to sleep. The sudden cry of the puppies, however, didn't exactly pull her from her slumber. One ear flickers with irritation at the noise but it isn't until they become quiet that she really focuses in on reality. Slate grey eyes flicker open as everything comes to the forefront of her mind and she quickly picks her head up to turn to her mate.

At first, she doesn't notice anything wrong. Wildfire is up, watching their young feed, and a small smile flickers upon her features. It isn't much, and she is more tired and sore than anything, but she works to set herself upright despite the pain reminding her to slow down.

Thuringwethil opens her mouth to speak but clicks her teeth together when she notices the expression on her mate's face. It isn't the same as she had hours ago after their birth and perhaps she'd brush it off as being tired, but something doesn't settle well between them. She picks herself a few inches off the ground so she can shuffle forward, signaling for attention. "Hey," she says quietly, leaning in to give Wildfire a few affectionate licks to her muzzle.

She didn't realize she was staring off into space until Thuringwethil shuffled closer and spoke. Wildfire blinked and twitched at the touch of a warm tongue, automatically turning into the gesture and returning it. She coaxed her cheek muscles to shift into a faint smile, though it didn't reach her chestnut eyes. She regarded the commander in silence for a beat, deliberating whether to tell her how she felt or just keep a lid on it. Wildfire almost immediately decided not to mention it; she didn't want to ruin the Heda's good spirits. The feelings, inexplicable as they were, would surely pass.

"Hey," she breathed back after a momentary pause. She turned, naturally, to gaze down at the four squirming bundles at her breast. "Can you believe they're here?" The words felt hollow and panicky in her mouth. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and not in a pleasant way. She was going to give herself away, if she wasn't careful. "Do you think you could watch them for a moment while I step outside?" was the next question out of her mouth.

Nudging the infants off her teats, Wildfire rose onto all fours and slipped from the den. She didn't go far, just walked behind the log to relieve herself. Everything from her abdomen downward ached and throbbed something awful. She winced, eyes closing against the spring sunshine. She thought of her potty break last night and Antler's abrupt arrival. She sucked in a breath and opened her eyes. Maybe she was just mourning their lost little one.

Within sixty seconds, she was back in the den, instinctively curling around their young. She reached out to lick their heads, yearning for a connection she simply couldn't feel right now. Wildfire did not cease her ministrations, however. Mechanically, she went about bathing the newborns, keeping her attention focused on them and avoiding Thuringwethil's eyes.

A peaceful dream of colors and sensations was suddenly disrupted when her warm pillow moved and sent the little red bean rolling over her red and black brother. Before her body could even begin to right itself, her mouth opened and out sprang a piercing wail of anger. How dare her mother move like that! She pawed blindly, punching her younger brother in the snout, as she clamored over his small frame in search of the bigger warmth that she instinctually sought. 

But she was back within seconds. The whiskers of her mother's nose tickled her own and immediately the cries stopped as her little body was wracked by two explosive sneezes. Every limb splayed wide and she lay there dazed for a long moment as her mind processed the sensation, and filed it away in the 2/10, would not attempt again catagory. A vibration of voices was the only hint Blixen had to the presence of someone else in the den, but she was otherwise entirely oblivious to the fact that she had, not one, but two parents. Unfortunately, she was also unaware that her mother was suffering some form of regret and anxiety over their simple existence.

Wildfire departed again, leaving Blixen to mouth her brother's folded ear nub. He grunted beneath her at the disgusting feeling of saliva and gooey baby gums drooling all over his skull. She wasn't gone terribly long and, sure enough, that warm tongue returned and she ceased her gnawing to arch her back into her mother's gentle ministrations.

The exchange feels a little empty in the beginning, especially when she barely acknowledges the questions. She briefly smiles before she looks away from her mate and the bundle of four hungry puppies feeding. The question catches her a little off guard and she hardly has a moment to respond before she’s nudging them away and stepping out of the den. Thuringwethil watches her disappear, ears twitching forward, but she can hear in the distance the purpose. The dark woman scoots forward a little more and allows the puppies to nestle into her, even though they do not find what they are looking for.

Wildfire resumes her spot after a moment, curling the puppies back into as she continues to move her tongue across their little, pudgy bodies. The glow that once circled her mate has dimmed and she’s never been one for hiding her feelings all that well. “Are you okay?” she decides to ask when the concern became too much not to bring up.

She sensed the question coming before Thuringwethil even opened her mouth. Wildfire knew she had the worst poker face. She stiffened slightly, then forced herself to relax and breathe. She took a few moments to ponder the question, then nod and say, "Yeah. I'm just a little tired and overwhelmed, I think." Finally, she lifted her gaze to meet her mate's. She managed a faint twitch of her lips.

The Bandrona then quietly resumed her bathing, making sure to wash each pup from top to bottom, mindless of the strange smells and tastes involved. It all boiled down to instinct and while she was lacking in the emotions department—maybe she had spent all her joy during the pregnancy somehow? was that sort of thing finite?—she nonetheless still felt a drive to care for and protect the pups. That was something of a relief.

She mulled in silence as she finished up this task, then when all four babes were pressed up tightly to her belly, either feeding or sleeping, she mused wryly, "I think... I feel like I might have a pregnancy hangover." She huffed a dry laugh. "I'm sure it'll pass," she said, trying to reassure herself as much as Thuringwethil.

Eventually her turn ended and Blixen, once more, resumed her wriggling. It was both a form of rebellion, and instinct—it occupied her undeveloped mind, and worked her newborn muscles so that they began to grow strong. But the first obstacle she encountered (a brother) put an immediate halt on her exploration. Try as she might, she wasn't yet coordinated enough to repeat the Great Brother Ascention of five minutes ago that prevented her from finding a new position amongst the brood. She pressed her nose into his shoulder and pushed to object his actions. To make an example of his rude ass.

Before she could make any headway on these plans of anarchy, Wildfire's great nose nudged her away from her protest and tucked her little frame in close to her warm belly. Blixen promptly forgot all about it and cooed a note of contentment. She lifted a paw and tapped her mother's stomach, not really seeking a teat, but testing the feeling of it against her skin without the distraction that the teat offered.

Even if the laugh felt forced and weak, it is still a laugh. Wildfire seems to know the source of the odd feeling and Thuringwethil can only take it as it comes. She’d gone through a lot during the pregnancy and expectations were high. They’d lost a child in the first night but they have four healthy ones tucked away in their mother’s breast. There’d been a level of disconnect before the pregnancy on her end but having spent the last twenty four hours with them, there’s a fondness she can’t explain. There’s nothing much to them other than sleeping and eating but they are hers. Theirs.

“There isn’t much to them yet,” she murmurs as she puts her head to the floor, her nose inches from them. The scent of milk and puppy breath and saliva fills her nose and she wrinkles the skin that tops her muzzle.

"Hey," Wildfire blurted when Blixen began to knead her, "that tickles." There was a tiny wisp of amusement in her tone, though she quickly glanced back toward Thuringwethil, mulling over her observation before nodding. "Yeah..." she replied rather generically, biting her lip a little as her attention returned to the four tiny bean shapes tucked in beside her.

Wildfire remained silent for a while, then mused quietly, "They are perfect, though." She didn't coo it like a glowing new mother, though there was a bit of awe and wonder in her tone. Pregnancy hadn't been easy, so to speak, but she hadn't really felt like she'd done much more than carry the pups. But she had created them from scratch (with a little help from Dio) and, aside from Antler, they were all beautifully formed miniature wolves. It was a little mind-blowing.

Blixen huffed a few seconds after Wildfire spoke to her, but not necessarily in response. She could feel the soft vibrations (both in the air and in her mother as she made the words), but her understanding that it was anything of consequence hadn't yet come about. Once more she tapped her mother, this time with the other paw, before stopping completely and allowing her desire to feed to take control. She nosed about for a teat before latching on and suckling slowly. The little girl was no longer ravenous, but instinct pushed her to eat and eat and eat.

There is no emotion in her mate’s words and Thuringwethil struggles to keep her expression light. Even if her words, her logic, is enough to assure her, she can’t help the nagging feeling tucked away out of reach. She can’t do anything about it now and she forces herself to believe that Wildfire will snap out of it soon enough and they can continue on with the family the mother has wanted for so long. Her stomach knots and she sucks down a breath, slowly nodding her head anyway.

They are perfect.