elowen woke to a deep, gut-wrenching nausea. not the lingering sickness she had grown accustomed to, the kind that had haunted her mornings for weeks now, but something sharper. worse.
her body ached—throbbed—with a foreign, unrelenting pressure, and she knew, with the kind of instinct that made her breath hitch in fear, that something was wrong.
a tremor ran through her limbs as she shifted, barely lifting her head before the pain overtook her, dragging a soft, broken whimper from her throat. her belly felt tight, too tight, as though her body were bracing itself for something she was not yet ready to face.
"lore—" his name came out weak, barely a whisper. she swallowed against the rising wave of sickness, eyes squeezing shut as a fresh surge of pain coiled deep in her abdomen. too early. it was too early.
her breathing came quick and uneven, panic creeping into her chest as she tried to force herself upright, only for her legs to buckle beneath her. her nest, once a place of warmth and security, now felt suffocating. her pulse pounded in her ears.
"lorcan!" louder this time, a desperate plea, raw with pain. the realization hit her like a stone—she was going into labor. far, far too soon.
March 13, 2025, 09:34 AM
it was not long from the time that she called that he came. rushing quickly, a panic sending his heart fluttering.
legs burning as he quickly traverses the terrain, dirt and ice propelled from beneath paws and nails. reaching the foothills, striding fast now.
he comes to a skidding halt outside the den and then scrambles within, eyes wide as they land upon her. collapsed, laboring upon the ground.
too soon! it was too soon!
woman would know what to do, yes? for now, he goes back to his dove's side, taking her paw in his.
legs burning as he quickly traverses the terrain, dirt and ice propelled from beneath paws and nails. reaching the foothills, striding fast now.
he comes to a skidding halt outside the den and then scrambles within, eyes wide as they land upon her. collapsed, laboring upon the ground.
too soon! it was too soon!
what—a panicked breath is drawn. he does not know what to do. his head a mess. he can only think to rush from where he was and call for @Ayovi.
woman would know what to do, yes? for now, he goes back to his dove's side, taking her paw in his.
breathe, little dove.he says as calmly as possible.
March 14, 2025, 01:42 PM
She hears the cries winding up from the foothills— Lorcan’s howl braided with fear. It could have been an ambush but her mind did not go there. No, somehow she knew the anguish in his voice, the type of sound only another parent could identify. “So soon,” she murmurs breathlessly— too soon.
Ayovi rips off Skorpa’s bear hide and rummages about their den, folding various plants and roots into a scrap of leather. But as the shouts persist she can bear it no longer and flies down the trailways.
Once inside their den, the huntress tosses her bundle aside, moving for the mother with a worried rush. Elowen’s face is contorted with pain, a little foot pressing against the taut skin. Ayovi knew little of childbirth, but it was clear in the twist of the mother—
“Has her water appeared?” The huntress asks Lorcan, nearly forgetting he is there. She rifles in the pouch for devil’s claw and rosemary. “This is for pain, Elowen,” she encourages, praying fear would not lock her up, summoning every memory of her aunts’ time. Some herbs are placed aside for local bleeding while the rest are offered orally. She reaches a paw to press against the young woman’s, squeezing. Then in a little gasp of disbelief and awe she addresses mother and father:
“The babies are coming!”
Ayovi rips off Skorpa’s bear hide and rummages about their den, folding various plants and roots into a scrap of leather. But as the shouts persist she can bear it no longer and flies down the trailways.
Once inside their den, the huntress tosses her bundle aside, moving for the mother with a worried rush. Elowen’s face is contorted with pain, a little foot pressing against the taut skin. Ayovi knew little of childbirth, but it was clear in the twist of the mother—
“Has her water appeared?” The huntress asks Lorcan, nearly forgetting he is there. She rifles in the pouch for devil’s claw and rosemary. “This is for pain, Elowen,” she encourages, praying fear would not lock her up, summoning every memory of her aunts’ time. Some herbs are placed aside for local bleeding while the rest are offered orally. She reaches a paw to press against the young woman’s, squeezing. Then in a little gasp of disbelief and awe she addresses mother and father:
“The babies are coming!”
March 14, 2025, 03:32 PM
too soon. too soon, and yet there was no stopping it. no turning back.
her body shuddered against the pain, a raw, trembling gasp slipping past her lips as her muscles clenched. lorcan beside her was the only thing keeping her tethered, though she could hardly focus on his words through the haze of fear pressing down upon her.
her breath hitched as ayovi entered, the woman moving quickly, speaking in calm, assured tones. elowen clung to them—for pain, she said, and elowen nodded weakly, parting her lips just enough to accept the offered herbs.
the squeeze of a paw, from her mate then the white huntress—both a comfort. then the words that sent a fresh wave of panic through her chest—the babies are coming!
"what—" a whisper, breathless and breaking. "it’s too soon, i—" another contraction stole the words from her, her body trembling as she pressed her forehead into lorcan’s fur, bracing, barely holding back a whimper. she was not ready. but it did not matter. they were coming.
her body shuddered against the pain, a raw, trembling gasp slipping past her lips as her muscles clenched. lorcan beside her was the only thing keeping her tethered, though she could hardly focus on his words through the haze of fear pressing down upon her.
her breath hitched as ayovi entered, the woman moving quickly, speaking in calm, assured tones. elowen clung to them—for pain, she said, and elowen nodded weakly, parting her lips just enough to accept the offered herbs.
the squeeze of a paw, from her mate then the white huntress—both a comfort. then the words that sent a fresh wave of panic through her chest—the babies are coming!
"what—" a whisper, breathless and breaking. "it’s too soon, i—" another contraction stole the words from her, her body trembling as she pressed her forehead into lorcan’s fur, bracing, barely holding back a whimper. she was not ready. but it did not matter. they were coming.
March 14, 2025, 07:35 PM
(This post was last modified: March 14, 2025, 07:35 PM by Moon Runner.)
Maybe a cameo, feel free to skip unless addressed!
There was a commotion.
The pregnant Waterstone cried out, and so Moon Runner was drawn to her wails.
Her dark mate was coiled ‘round like bittersweet while Cloud Dancer fret.
Moon Runner had been elder sister to her mother’s third litter. Childbirth was, perhaps, the most courageous and harrowing thing known to nature. And it was lonely – Waterstone must cross this Rubicon on her own four, metaphorical, paws.
Soon, it would be Cloud Dancer's turn as well.
Moon Runner hung back in the foliage. Her head lowered, amber-gold eyes afixed upon Waterstone.
Have strength, her spirit said.
4 hours ago
lorcan presses closer, his nose buried against elowen’s brow. her pain is his own, a fire in his chest he cannot put out.
ayovi works quickly, hands deft, words calm. he clings to them, even as fear gnaws at his ribs.
the babies are coming.
he swallows hard, golden eyes flicking to ayovi.
breathe, little dove.his voice is low. his heart hammers like a war drum. too soon. too soon.
ayovi works quickly, hands deft, words calm. he clings to them, even as fear gnaws at his ribs.
i’m here.he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple. her body trembles beneath him, fragile yet fierce.
the babies are coming.
he swallows hard, golden eyes flicking to ayovi.
they’ll survive?a demand. a plea. then, panic:
should i go?he does not want to cramp their space.
1 hour ago
She had barely time to shake herself fully awake before she was scrubbing her paws in witch-hazel and layering peltskins of mink and otter by the woman’s tail.
“It’s all right,” Ayovi encourages the father, the three awash in nerves. But Ayovi forces her mind to calm. Elowen needed her now. “Many strong warriors of my tribe were prematurely birthed, and the great among us are invariably early rises. It means only they are eager to meet you,” she reassures them both, hoping it is enough to stave off the fear.
Nemage’s scent wafts from just outside the den, and Ayovi is grateful she remains close in the instance of complications. She gestures for Lorcan to remain near his wife’s side just as another convulsion seizes her. A quick prayer to those protective spirits which surround the mother, then she finds the still blue of Elowen’s eyes:
“It’s time to push!”
“It’s all right,” Ayovi encourages the father, the three awash in nerves. But Ayovi forces her mind to calm. Elowen needed her now. “Many strong warriors of my tribe were prematurely birthed, and the great among us are invariably early rises. It means only they are eager to meet you,” she reassures them both, hoping it is enough to stave off the fear.
Nemage’s scent wafts from just outside the den, and Ayovi is grateful she remains close in the instance of complications. She gestures for Lorcan to remain near his wife’s side just as another convulsion seizes her. A quick prayer to those protective spirits which surround the mother, then she finds the still blue of Elowen’s eyes:
“It’s time to push!”
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