Hideaway Strath and i said to the star 'consume me'

For @Simmik @Alduin @Atka @Tulok (@Kynareth Deagon is also welcome ofc .) set for whenever works for you guys/whenever yall have time/muse.

After her heat had abated, it was only natural that the midwife seek to call after the other women in the pack who were undergoing the various stages of pregnancy and postpartum -- her patients, whom the midwife had unfortunately had to set aside when her own season came knocking. @Vein (reference) had made mention of the alarming scene that heralded the end of Simmik's birth and Aerin had felt her heart splinter with shared pain for the pale mother, having known what it was like to lose a daughter, the first daughter. 

The Daykeeper had helped her with the preparation of a herbal tea, the duo settling on a soothing tincture of chamomile, hibiscus, lavender, and rose petals and hips to help the new mother relax and heal -- some of the foliage grown in their own garden plot, some gathered from about the Strath for their shared medicine wares. Aerin carried the infusion with her now, clasping the edge of a skull bowl her husband had made gingerly in her teeth as she trotted in the direction of The Grandmaster's den -- the scents of the pack still heavy where they had borne witness to the arrival of the baby Deagons. The herbologist shuddered slightly, understanding why Arlette might've holed herself away. Everyone was different; personally, Aerin was just far too skittish and reserved to have so many wolves around while she birthed a litter.

The Priestess stopped some distance from the den -- so as not to spook either parent within -- and called out softly for permission to approach, explaining that she had brought medicine with her. Perhaps they would prefer if she left it outside and slipped away, leaving them to their newborns and their privacy.

current time works for me <3

She still hadn't let any of the pack see the children, aside from the healers and her mate. She wasn't ready to share them yet and they were too vulnerable still. She was fiercely protective of them, and she wanted them to be a little bigger before she introduced them. So things had been quiet and peaceful most of the time, and she found that she kind of liked it that way. At least when the quiet didn't bring forth all the things she didn't care to think about. 

She was wrapped around the three nursing boys when she heard footsteps approaching the den. She tensed and waited, her hackles raising high on her shoulders. But the scent that wafted in just before the soft, kind call of the healer had her freezing a moment before the tension melted away. She slowly stood, detaching herself from the pups. She looked at them apologetically as they grunted and squeaked their disapproval with having their meal interrupted. Simmik stepped over them and placed her self in the entrance of the den, extending her head and shoulders outside to greet Aerin. 

The healer held a familiar skull bowl in her jaws—she was here to help, and Simmik appreciated it. The new mother dipped her head both in greeting and invitation before turning and disappearing back into the den to wrap herself around her children. She would wait for Aerin to come and tell her what drink she brought with her today.

Had to post with potato boy before he went inactive!

Alduin, the little dark ball of fluff, looks like a perfect mix between his father and his and grandfather. Getting the darker complexion from the midnight pelt of Mehrunes Deagon and of course the brindle from his father Kynareth. Said potato doesn’t know it yet, but he’d be so horribly prideful of his unique pelt that he’d think himself better than any wolf he’d ever met because of it. Cursed with the ego of his father but the moderately reserve of his beautiful mother, he’d be a deadly and efficient killer. Something his father couldn’t be more proud of.

Still in the moment, Alduin doesn’t know much but warmth, cold, hunger, darkness, and silence. Getting the most comfort from what appears to be his bearer. When the white wolf is moving from his tiny pawed grasp and pulling a teat from his gummy maw he’s howling his ire with a sweet, but fierce, “Ah-ooohhh!” Wriggling about desperately searching for that warmth that fills his belly and his underdeveloped mind so beautifully. He demands it back!

2 weeks and 1 day, it was almost as if the moon and stars were counting the seconds until their prophet grew and spread the gospel of stone and sea. Sky awaiting flesh to bring about the reckoning of earth. But for now, he slept, and ate, then slept some more. A monotonous, quiet little existence. His titanhood was still yet eons away. 

Atka had been unhurried to open his baby blues, though he had never been shy about letting his displeasure known. Every time the mother beast moved, he screamed. Every time the not-quite stranger came and touched them, he whimpered. It happened to be during one of these times when the whelp opened his orbs for the very first time, a big black hole was his first sight and of course...he screamed. After the hole moved away and melted into the bigger form of the father beast, now a stranger no longer, his petty cries softened to that of excited mewls. 

At the current blip in the timeframe, he was nursing, connecting to all pups across the world in a brief moment of spirituality. He thought all pups must worship milk, it was the lifeblood after all. The white all-mother stiffened, and when she stood he dug his forming teeth in despite them not being particularly sharp. Yet, the ever-flowing fountain was snatched from him. 

Instead of crying his head swiveled to squint past Simmik, tiny head wobbling as he struggled to hold it up so high. What a curious-looking stranger, a wisp maybe. His mind was filled with questions, none forming into anything but squeaks. And then Alduin, his huge brother, began his warcry and duty demanded Atka follow suit, head tilted back to attempt a tiny "awooh!" a quick cut-off howl. This was hard. 

She had not quite heard of the new mother's promotion but it was ingrained in her very being that she treat the wife of her Overlord with the same respect she might give Kynareth himself, besides the fact that it was always best to err on the side of submission when working with mothers and their young children. Such was demonstrated in the nonthreatening displays she greeted Simmik with once the Harbinger dipped her pale diadem of hoarfrost beyond the threshold of the Deagon household: the midwife lowering her tapering muzzle with a soft, placating noise as her shoulders curled and her ears pinned to her skull reassuringly. Only after she had been invited in by the autumn-eyed beauty, albeit silently, did she move any closer to the den -- footsteps light and soft, ginger as she edged her way into the dim proximity of the whelping den which still smelled of the primal birthscent the midwife had come to be intimately familiar with over the years.

"They're beautiful, Simmik," she whispered in hushed tones colored by the beginnings of adoration as she settled the skull of herbal tea aside, watching the warrior wrap herself comfortably around the plump forms of three striped babes. No doubt destined to grow into huge brindled brutes like their Grandmaster. A warmth flooded her heart; the pale doe could scarcely wait to have her own little ones nestled against her -- to see them wrestle about with Kynareth and Simmik's boys, Nyra's too.

The crying and howling of her displeased children had her curling quickly around them and attempting to comfort them with nuzzles and gentle swipes of her tongue as they found her milk once more. She would help guide them in the right direction if needed, only taking her focus from them once they were all three eating and content once more. 

She looked up to the healer as she spoke, an adoring grin spreading slowly across her face. Thank you, she said softly. I can't stop staring at them, she admitted. Really, she couldn't. She was obsessed; they were perfect and she and Ky had made them. Sometimes it just didn't seem real. 

I didn't see you at their birth, she said next, no anger or condemnation in her voice—only curiosity and a touch of concern. She knew by now that Aerin wouldn't have missed their children's debut without good reason.

@Alduin gonna go ahead and move this along but we can forgo the posting order for the rest of this thread if y'all would like

"Ah, yes," the midwife murmured in tones that spoke of admission and regret. She would've liked to be there, even if her presence proved unnecessary with all the other Saints present to help the Sandraudiga, but circumstances had simply gotten in the way. "I vas in 'eat myself.." she admitted somewhat shyly. "I thought it best to stay away. I vould 'ave only been a distraction on yer big day," she smiled kindly as she quipped lightly. 

"But I 'eard about it from Vein vhen 'e returned to our den. I am very sorry about yer girl...I know vhat it is to lose a daughter," she shared, ears pinning with the apology as her snow-blanketed features projected an empathetic warmth. "Zis is alvays a 'ard thing. If'n ye might vant to talk about it -- now or later -- I vould nae mind being a listening ear."