Bearclaw Valley (pause) it died in babylon

sleep does not come easy to towhee now. she grows bigger by what feels like the day, the life within her womb active. it is a good thing, she tells herself as she is weighed down with the added weight, the curve of her flanks. they are alive. they are strong.

a stab of guilt races through her as she feels a brief moment of irritation: that she is no longer agile. that regular, oft simple tasks are cumbersome and slow.

it was magical at first but the magic of pregnancy has waned and she is left now feeling like a burden to bearclaw and her husband rather than an asset.

she winces as one of the pups aims a kick at her bladder and she squats with a low grunt to relieve herself as urine trickles down her leg without her conscious decision to do so in the first place.

she huffs, trying to telepathically tell them to stop kicking her bladder and nudging her ribs before she kicks dirt to cover it and keeps moving, telling herself that each stretch of patrol she can muster is a small victory.

the days have been long. tvar, torn between responsibilities to bearclaw and newfound responsibilities as husband and impending father, finds that his head is hung heavy. yet—he is not tired. he is filled with more vigor than he ever had been, enthused with the prospects of the future.

his life has been given new purpose.

he was heading back towards his shared den with his wife when his attention was pulled aside. by, no other than herself. eyes of blue and green tearing curiously through the wooded clearing, he musters a soft laugh and turns trajectory. black paws thudding over the wintery ground as he slowly saddles up behind his wife. it takes few strides to catch up with her these days.

there is a stirring in the trees above and he casts eyes briefly upwards to see ghost tailing above them. the man snorts, then turns his attention to tj, brushing his side into hers when he finally meets her stride. butting forehead into her cheek.

he wonders if she will ever grow tired of his vigilance or his affection.

if not for the rotundness of her body as she adjusts to carrying life within her womb, towhee feels more like her old self. something closer to draconian than lupine. irritation and hostility has nestled back into her skin: partly inspired by her own thoughts and fiercely protective maternal instincts.

she senses tvar's presence, smells him on the air — which was the only reason she wasn't startled by his approach from behind her. she leans briefly into the press of his forehead against her cheek, steps slowing to a stop so she could communicate with her husband.

-be honest with me, am i a burden? to bearclaw ... to you?- she signs in ptero.

towhee hates that these thoughts have made their home in her mind; spreading like an unwelcome plague. but it comes from a place of extreme vulnerability, that while she could hate it with every fibre of her being still existed nonetheless. it was only with tvar she would ask this question, trusting him with her raw vulnerability.

she frowns and lets out a low huff as her thoughts careen in another direction. -when my mother was pregnant with bushtit she wasn't round like me and hadn't seemed to have slowed down. she didn't even know she was pregnant until she gave birth to him!-

her question makes him pause, a frown ghosting over his features before he shakes his head, firm.

never. his paws move with surety, brisk motions filled with passion. not to me. not to bearclaw. it is an absurd question! tvar finds himself suddenly huffy, eyes searching the strong features of his wife’s dark mask. has someone said something to you?

if someone had… anger darkens the doorstep of his colored eyes and he steps forward to towhee to calm himself. brushing his nose against her cheek, only pulling away enough to sign again. you may look like her and be named after her, he buffers briefly while looking for the mannerisms to finish his sentence, but you are not her. you can’t compare yourself.

a thick neck leans down so that he may nudge affectionately at her belly, that slowly swells with life. she was a safe, warm home for their pups; she was not supposed to do as she used to! but try telling her that, he supposed. he peers over his wife’s shoulder with an encouraging grin.

and maybe you carry more than one. tvar’s heart flutters at the idea. a large family with her. part of him was nervous—beyond nervous—but another part feels he was meant for this. his family had always had endless amounts of children—he and his wife deserved a strong, cemented legacy.

-no, no,- towhee is quick to sign in an attempt to reassure and chase away the dark storm cloud that has made it's home across his face. -it is only my thoughts. unfortunately, they can be rather weighted and unnecessarily cruel.- her confidence did not, unfortunately, extend to her pregnancy and the fact that she was far along now. she suspects that the wait to meet their babies would not be long. a month, maybe less.

-i suppose i am simply envious of how easy she'd made pregnancy look.- towhee admits, paws stilling as her posture turns sheepish. -i certainly hope there's more than one in there. else i'm giving birth to a giant.- humor colors her expression then.

his expression eases when she reassures him, but he doesn’t like that she’s been thinking this way at all. he huffs, ears twitching as he studies her.

you don’t have to make it look easy. he smiles warmly to her, pressing side into hers, pressing his forehead against her throat. i have watched many women bring life into this world. there is no stronger feat.

and then, pointedly, if it is just one, at least we’ll have a warrior from the start. he seems to grin ear to ear, no other capable of making him so happy, and no other life he could imagine, you know you can speak to me, right?

his tail flicks behind him as he tilts his head, watching her with quiet warmth.

-you are right, and i know.- she leans towards him after she signs in ptero, placing a small kiss upon his cheek. it quiets the cruelest of her thoughts for now, though working through them was something that towhee had to do herself. nevertheless, it was nice to have the reinforcement of logic to help light the candle that kept those shadowed thoughts away.

and ... at any rate, she would be giving birth in another month or so. it wasn't as if she was going to be pregnant forever.

-i can't wait to meet them.- towhee signs with a soft sigh.

tvar watches her closely, reading more than just her signs. he leans into the kiss, letting his muzzle linger near hers for a brief moment before pulling back.

me neither. his paws move, firm and assured.

his gaze drops briefly to her belly, full of warm anticipation, protectiveness—maybe even a little fear.

have you thought of names? he adds, a small, crooked smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

there is a thoughtful tilt of towhee's head as she reads his words, considering his question. her paws are still, giving it the thought it deserves. names. in truth, she hadn't. a part of her — surely a naïve part — hoped that they would just come to her as she greeted the children as they came into the world. as someone who bore many names, she knew the importance of them.

-i haven't,- towhee admits, her expression sheepish despite the precise gesture of her paws into ptero. -my family's tradition is to name after birds ... and other animals.- she admits. -what is your family's naming tradition?-

maybe there was a way, towhee thinks as her gaze rests upon her husband, that both families could be honored in the naming of their children.

tvar watches her, patient. he hadn’t thought of names either, not really. truthfully, he had just assumed towhee would want to lead on that front. but towhee’s question makes him think.

we name after our ancestors. warriors. kings. he trails off. but my mother's side of the family were norsemen, through and through. whereas the crownores had a complicated relationship with their roots.

he tilts his head slightly. we are closely affiliated with birds as well. pointing out the obvious there, but he tilts his head anyways, a smile partially breaking his dark mask.

he hums in thought, moving tail to sway gently amongst her own. we can find a way to incorporate both?