Nova Peak r is for…

Everything hurt so much all the time, Masquerade welcomed her labor pains with a sense of relief. It didn’t feel early to her as she sprawled in the dugout, panting through the ebb and flow of contractions. She could hardly wait to push, desperate to meet her children and reclaim her body.

After days of discomfort and hours of pain, she finally delivered the first fruit of her labors. Masque startled when she bent to clean her firstborn. He was so little. She had seen her fair share of newborns and he seemed so much smaller, though she took his fussing as a good sign.

The second and third pups arrived in quick succession, their bodies just as tiny and wriggly. The new mother diligently cleaned them and placed them beside their nursing brother. Masque waited for them to latch, equal parts wondering and worried.

She fully anticipated the afterbirth next—the image of Avicus consuming hers was forever branded on her mind’s eye—and she supposed she would eat it too. Masque was pleased but depleted. She could use the nutrients. So could they.

The next contraction brought forth a fourth puppy instead, even smaller than her tiny siblings. Masquerade’s heart leaped and sank in a matter of seconds. She delicately cleared away the amniotic fluids. The puppy took a breath, though she didn’t cry. She hardly moved.

Less than an hour later, her daughter’s cold body lay limp in her arms. Just as she’d taken care of the afterbirth, Masque wouldn’t let the pup’s death go to waste. It was a sad and grisly business, though eating her remains would hopefully help her litter mates thrive despite their premature arrival.

Afterward, she christened them, Riot… Rowdy… Ruckus… Masque paused to swallow before murmuring, And Rumpus.

Unlike the typical child who might feel safe and warm in the womb, all Ruckus had ever felt was impatience and suffocation. It was stifling, boring, and quite frankly: dull. When they finally felt movement of a new variety, they were raring to go. This was unlike any other sensation, and they drank in the unfamiliarity and novelty like it was cold water on a hot summer's day. Nothing, no one, could stop them now, and they came into the world with a sense of adventure and wonder at the new smells, the new sensations—was that cold?—and the distinct feeling that this was a whole different ballgame.

Good job, mama. Riley whispered as Masque announced the names of their children. He’d hung back just outside the dugout, both ears turned in as he listened apprehensively. This was Masque’s struggle now -he hated that there was nothing he could do to ease her pain or help.

Three boys, one daughter. He nudged Masque softly, concern and understanding pooling in his gaze. Their daughter’s life had been so short — but he hoped without pain.

You did it. He breathed again, admiring the three impossibly small bodies as they wriggled and latched. He passed his gaze rovingly over each. They’re perfect.

born second in a quartet of dark shapes, rowdy’s entrance to the world was uneventful. he posed patiently as his mother cleaned him and pulled from his face a mauve caul; he was still as he was jostled by siblings, and he latched readily for his first meal. 

that was where ‘normal’ ended — for rowdy “two” redtail, second born of dragonspine, had two tails instead of the one.

Riot was born quite contrarily to his name.
His two other siblings paved the way out, and he did nothing more than sluggishly follow.
For a newborn, he is quiet. Coughing, sputtering at first, only to clear his lungs. He gulps down air as if he'd been saved from drowning.
He did not cry.
Instinctively, he finds his place alongside the others without trouble, as there is ample room to feed.

No posting order, I’ll just post again when everyone who wants to post has posted. Going for at least one more round after this one so I can use this for a specialty thread.

Riley praised her and she could only look at him, exhausted and a little heartsick. She reminded herself it was just nature’s way sometimes, that she hadn’t done anything wrong. Still, she gazed over the three squirming boys—all so impossibly tiny—and couldn’t help but fret a little.

As he proclaimed them perfect, Masque very carefully nosed at each of them. She placed a tender kiss on each small forehead, lingering to breathe in each son’s scent. She was too tired to notice there was an extra tail among them, though she slowly came to agree with her mate: they were perfect.

So small though, she murmured absently, letting the pups settle against her breast as she raised her head to catch Riley’s eye. We did it, Riley. We really, actually, finally did it.

As he listened to the novel noise of puppy squeaks and breathing, he felt something expand in his rib cage. Birth had been Raider’s crucible to bear — but now, he was a father.

He nosed his mate affectionately as she met his gaze, watching as the squirming little things wormed their way to her chest. They looked like fat grubs — he wasn’t going to say this out loud, even if it was well intended.

They’ll be big before we know it. He peered down at them all, a small grin coming to his face. Guess we got outnumbered after all.

Ruckus continued to squirm around as much as their weak newborn muscles would allow. A cold, wet nose touched them, and they wriggled with delight. The vibration of voices tickled their ears, and they let out a quiet cooing sound in return. Their first waking period was short, overwhelming, and everything they had hoped for. This new world was beyond their expectations, and they couldn't wait to drink in more of it. Sadly for them, it would have to wait. With a belly full of warm milk and a very eventful day, they passed out cold next to their siblings.

three heads poked from raider’s belly - one by one dropping off to sleep. 

rowdy was the last to drift off into slumber. his body was so small and tired: every muscle moved was a great undertaking. it took all his coordination to align his bobblehead face with the milk-dispensing faucet; he drank deeply, gradually losing his grip as his belly filled. 

riot and ruckus managed to drink their fill, and fell asleep. rowdy instinctively crowded their bodies for warmth, splaying out upside down in the comical manner only puppies could do.

Sleep takes him quickly.
It would become quite the pattern for the boy during his infancy. 
Sleep, eat, repeat.
Warmed by the bodies of his siblings, cradled by his mother, and watched over by his father, Riot recharges after the exhausting act of being born.

She drew in a breath at Riley’s reassurances. She did want them to grow, though hopefully not too fast. Masque had the feeling all of this was going to go by in the blink of an eye. She would have to make a concerted effort to savor it.

His comment about the number earned a soft huff of laughter from her, though her eyes flickered with sadness as Masque thought of poor Rumpus. It was for the best, she decided. Besides, dwelling on her daughter’s death would take away from her focus on her mate and living children.

I love you guys, Masque said to the den at large, before acknowledging, I know I should sleep, especially when they sleep. She stared fondly at the snoozing newborns for a beat or two. But I think I just want to sit here and stare at them for a little while.

And that was exactly what she would do, until her eyelids grew too heavy and her body demanded the rest it deserved after the hard work of childbearing.