Sunspire Mountains Barbastella [m]

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: BIRTH GROSS THINGS. Early afternoon into nighttime. @Iqniq @Atuaserk @Malrok @Pingasut @Sitamat only

The noon was spent lazing. Though around 1PM, when she had sent her mate to fetch her the first thing he could find, pain like she had not yet experienced began to occur. She rose without a whimper, but her grimace was deep and her dark eyes betrayed her newest worry—

Would she survive this?

She had no time to worry. As the hours passed, her pains grew so great she could not think of anything at all but this pain. After thirty minutes, she entered the den and began to pace. Her breathing was labored and heavy, and for many long hours she endured this pain with nothing to come of it. If her mate came near, she would snap at him and urge him away; her instincts disabled her from wanting to see anyone in this state, or near the new life.

Tonravik felt something within her and spun in a thousand circles before settling at last within a corner of the den. She rose and repeated this a few more times until she could move no more. Her contractions were close together, now, and she snarled savagely. There was a time when instinct forced her to push, and push she did. The alpha female felt that no one or thing could hurt her so much as this did... and it was then the pain ended for a brief moment, all of a millisecond, until the thing came from her. She veritably roared as it came forth, and she swept the wet sac near her to lick it away, clean it, help it breathe... instinct. A son. The bear cub was monstrous for any baby in size, but still incredibly small and frail. There was only enough time to goad it near her tender belly before the urge came again to push.

She obeyed her instincts and did just that. Out came another, and she repeated her behaviors toward the other cub before ushering it beside its brother. Her second was large as well, and also a son she realized proudly, but she had little time to observe other attributes in either of them. She had to push again, and this was the most painless of them thus far. After doing what she must to help it survive, she tilted her head at this one. He appeared to be a dark brown to her given he was soaked from her cleansing and where he had been before, and although he was smaller, he was not especially small. She had but a moment to gather that before pain rippled through her again and another came. The fourth was large, larger than the third-born... cleaning him quickly, she goaded him to where he would eat, and there was another ripple of pain—

Her last born, the fifth, was a runt. He was born unmoving and frail, but she still tried to resuscitate him, tiredly not understanding he was already dead. When she did comprehend this, she unfeelingly devoured the thing, not wanting to draw predators in with the scent of death. It would seem her stress had taken a toll on the pregnancy after all. The alpha female moved to clean herself quickly, disrupting her cubs in the thoughtless movement, before their persistent mewling brought her down to them again, their cries making her ache oddly. Tonravik drew them close, licking their backs, and as they latched her muzzle wrinkled. How odd.

Surveying the tiny beasts, she could see they were all relatively dark-furred... and as one battled with the other for food, she grinned.

She did not leave their side. But she called out to her mate, who she would not let near the cubs except to bring her food to the mouth of the den, "Atuaserk, Malrok, Pingasut, and Sitamat—your sons—have survived. One did not." She had not taken the time to identify the gender; she had been entirely unattached from the moment she recognized it was dead.