Bearclaw Valley what a sweet surprise

instinct told her to drive her boy away from the den but the exceptional fear that had welled up inside her bid him to stay.  she sought him with fear-stricken eyes, panting desperate and heavy.  her sides are heaving as she lay down on the ground, her rear facing the walls of the den.  whether or not they were ready, it was time.

heavy contractions began and short whines punctuated the early morning, and with each instinctual push a child began to emerge.  it seemed like years before she had expelled the child from her body.  immediately, she took upon removing the thin membrane from around its stiff, twisted form.

it did not cry.

her heart shattered, and her defeated form lay against the whelping den's walls as she wept tearlessly, her eyes closed.  but she had a duty — she knew this was not over.  she grabbed the pup and moved it towards the mouth of the den, then returned to the corner of the den.