Stavanger Bay when the river took flight

*whispers: "I can't wait any longer"*

It was dark inside the den, though the sun was already climbing high. She'd retreated into the stone den as soon as the contractions made her feel as though she was in danger of falling off the narrow ledge, but it'd been some hours since then, and her labor had not been kind.

Finally, though, the planets seemed to align. With a quiet wail, Doe pushed forth the tiny body she'd been warring with for the better of half of an hour. The pain and pressure and desparation of the moment seemed to fade as she lifted a messy leg and caught sight of the immobile lump that laid there. And for an instant, the little shewolf could not bring herself to bring it nearer. Fear beyond anything she'd ever known had a tight and sudden grip on her heart, and for an instant, she could do nothing but tremble. She wanted her mother. Wanted Szymon. Skellige. Furiosa. Someone to tell her it would be okay; to pick the thing up already and see whether it was dead, whether it was worth saving. For an instant, she was terrified.

But the next instant, the thing twitched - a shiver in the dark. And Doe's head dipped forward as though she'd done this a million times, and the still, small babe was picked up in gentle, loving jaws. Doe cleaned its nose and mouth first, and then licked away the rest of the fluid that marred its thin, silky pelt.

In the dark, she could not tell what color he was - only that it was a strong, healthy boy. And her first instinct was to call him Riverbone there on the spot, but already, she knew that this would be a grave insult to her pack. To her king. To the wolf that she'd become. Because this pup was a Cairn, and he should have a name that fit the title. A good name, a strong one. One that would put him on par with great wolves like his father, Szymon. Like Skellige, their king. Even like Ksenia, the fearsome wraith that they were told might someday return with a vengence.

Doe wanted him to be able to meet her when she came. With flashing eyes and snapping teeth, and with a name that meant he was owned by the sea, and not the tiny, fleeting inlets that her former alpha had been named for.

"@Isengrim," she breathed, pressing a soft kiss to the child's head. And there would be more - but for the moment, Doe drew the boy against her side and revelled in the newness of him.