Moonspear i want to have the same last dream again, the one where i wake up and i'm alive

She weathered the last days of pregnancy and first days of puppies much the same--in a tired, strange haze, with Charon coming and going most of all because he remained the easiest company for her to have (not only because he brought food and meant a guarded vicinity). Still recovering from birthing the little blots and trying to stay ahead of keeping the four clean, she went through the motions and stole her rest when she could, however fitful it was.

Her nose quivered at the fresh scent of bodily fluid. She lifted her head as that realization set, blinking sleep off her eyes to turn upon the whelps to find one, a messy one, rousing the chorus of complaints. Her ears fell back, and the more she beheld, the worse it was. Another seemed to realize this, followed suit, the other two squirmed a bit but were far enough from ground zero to not see the effect yet. Before she could watch the entire litter descend into vomit-piss-feces-soaked chaos, she plucked the upside-down offender away from the rest with her jaws.

Sighing to herself, she put that one between her forelimbs for an aggressively thorough cleaning. When the worst was managed, she reached around and spared a few swipes of her tongue for the other pale girl, and realized she was a little messier than she realized at first glance. Next she put her at front legs, and alternated between grooming them both better. The other two, the smallest ones, stayed tucked back near her hindlegs--hopefully fine enough to go ignored for now.