Blackfeather Woods for who would bear the whips and scorns of time

Knowledge of the newcomer had not yet reached her but it was difficult to ignore the strange sounds that filled the glen, for they were a familiar cacophony that Parvati had witnessed a few times in her past. The struggle sounded like a battle; not one of warrior men, but brave and worthy women. The voice that carried sounds of distress through the wood summoned something within Parvati and so she sought out the source. 

The closer she got the more worked up she felt. The woman was always eager to assist her sisters in her natal pack and this was no different - or so she thought, until she finally arrived on the scene and found the woman struggling. The scent of afterbirth soaked in to the forest floor; the sounds of the woman struggling abated somewhat as the first bundle was delivered; yet of all the chaos, what stood out most to Parvati was the scent of Ramsay.

He must have interacted with this stranger for her to be here. Perhaps he had bewitched her too - lain with her, and with powerful daedric magic he had cursed her. A foolish, imaginative plot that held no basis in reality. But she was skeptical and hormonal, witnessing this birth from the shadows and feeling her gut twist with jealousy. Once she contained her own emotions on the subject she came striding closer, her belly swaying with the momentum.

Breathe, she softly reminded the new mother, Rest, your fight is not over yet.