Ravensblood Forest the bird and the bee [m]

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Dakarai spoke the exact words she wanted to hear and his smooth baritone assuaged the discomfort that gripped her belly. Olive wasn’t convinced of his word’s truthfulness, however, as the lamb still wasn’t certain she had it in her to raise a proper family. She was much too wild, much too flighty, much too self sacrificing to be of any use to father or child. After all, did she not wreck so much havoc upon the lives of those she loved most — completely unintentionally? How could Olive have felt so in the right, when she actually had been so in the wrong? The lamb had much to learn, but she did not desire the [seemingly inevitable] baptism by fire. She could not, would not, let her children pay the price for her disregard.

Perhaps Arturo would find them in the morning and dispatch her forthwith. When the Blackfeather Fuckers turned up just a few days ago, he had seemed angry enough; and, up until now, she had been able to skirt around the realities of their situation. With somber tears clouding her eyes, peered up at the motherly moon [which sat so heavy in the saturated sky] and whispered a hushed chant, delicately appealing the celestial body for its guidance. Almost as if in response another contraction gripped her and a skating whine leaked from her maw, her legs tensing and drawing towards her belly in discomfort. Suddenly [and despite Dakarai’s suggestion push] the colleen decided that she could lay no longer and Olive muscled her laboring body up onto thin, unsteady limbs. Slowly she ambled in circles around the clearing that entrenched their den, paws dragging methodically against the stone floor. The carpet of fresh leaves and feathers lay just inside the grotto’s entrance, but Olive much preferred the cool air against the heat of her body, working hard to create life. 

Soon this churning heat would slick her sides with sweat and Olive would realize the true pain of childbirth — and until that happened, the young mother remained somewhat composed. Olive would never be able to say how many hours this went on, as her sole focus that moment was listening to the tune body and receiving the instructions the moon communicated through the pattens of its dappled moonlight; it distorted all time and all thoughts and she could not even form words to speak with Dakarai, so withdrawn and connected with her body was she. Led by her instincts, Olive went from pacing to standing still, then she tried squatting but eventually ended up in Dakarai’s arms once more — and when Dakarai told her to push, she pushed; and when Dakarai told her to breathe, she breathed; and when her body told her to yell out, she yelled out; and when her instincts told her to reach down and greet her newborn baby, well, she did just that.

The actual moment her nose touched her firstborn son was singlehandedly the best moment of Olive’s life: better than willing Teaghlaigh into existence, better than falling in love, better than seeing Dakarai on her doorstep, better than her heat and better than pulling her husband back from the brink of anonymity. Gently, the mother pressed her nares against the pup and breathed in its sweet scent  — the cub smelled distinctly hers and immediately her heart swelled. Her tail thump thump thumped behind her, hitting against Dakarai in unabated joy. Immediately, she set to cleaning the babe and when she made to pull it up to her front paws, Olive realized that there was not one but two cubs! Her joy doubled and with gusto she situated the two pups between her paws, utterly forgetting all of the pain that had consumed her moments before. Her tongue made quick work of cleaning the babes and further inspection yielded that they were both boys, both of heather grey fur… twins. The lamb cradled the two, mewling pups in her arms and literally just stared at them for a while in disbelief — her love had never known such depths. 

Olive nuzzled into Dakarai and allowed the father to welcome his children, his sons. The four were only allowed a moment’s respite before Olive felt another tug low in her belly, signaling more were to come. The mother ignored the contractions for a while, far too enamored with her sons to possibly think of focusing on anything else — and Olive regretted to part with her sons for even a moment, but there was the promise of more babies to love and Olive could think of nothing she wanted more than more babies. The twins were pushed to her stomach and again she labored; she operated completely off of motherly intuition, which turned out to be very strong in the pale seraph. Pain was there but not felt: the euphoria of birth had already worked its magic upon the new mother and she felt invincible, incredible and strong.  Considerate of the wonderful bundles that tugged at her belly, Olive gingerly and gracefully birthed her third and last pup. This babe, too, was pulled forth and held between Olive’s small paws as her skilled tongue went to work. It was small and a spitting image of its father — and a lovely, little girl. Tenderly, their daughter was placed at her breast and began to nurse quite vigorously for having just been born. 

The sun peeked over the tips of the bleeding timbers, illuminating the scene and allowing the parents to look at their living, breathing children. What they had fought so hard for. Dakarai was back — something she had fought so hard for. In completely bliss and satisfaction, the new mother leaned back into Dakarai and let out one bone-weary breath. This was it. Screw everything else in life that was not this!

welcome to the world <3 <3 <3 birth order is as follows, but there's no posting order! @Sirius, then @Aries and finally @Cassiopeia!

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