Broken Boulder oh, give me a break already

Okay, so, at this point, Queenie was 90% sure that none of the males who had come to her aide had any malintent (including Alarian's wolf-dog companion), but it was that last 10% of doubt and instinct coupled together that made their efforts to help darn near repulsive to their patient. Each of Alarian's movements was followed with watchful eyes, his words by warning snaps; still, she didn't want him to leave, because he was the thing keeping Delight calm and of all the things that she couldn't handle, an uppity Del was at the top of the list. Stay, she conceded with the fall of her shoulders, but go over there.

Normally, Delight's touch would have been taken with kind regard, but Queenie was in no mood for affection. His daring step into the den was stopped by a loud snap of her jaws; another — the last warning any of them would get. I don't need that, she barked, referring to the raspberry leaves.

Fast-forward about three hours. Gotta get this show on the road!

I need it, Queenie whined as she paced back and forth outside of the mouth of the den. Things were moving too quickly! Was this normal? I mean, of course it was going to hurt, we knew that, but was it supposed to hurt like this? The kids that came out of her would need to be pretty cute to make up for all that they'd put her through (not that anyone doubted it; just look at their parents, for crying out loud). How am I supposed to know when?