Ankyra Sound V. That's the way the cornbread crumbles, that's the way the whole thing ends.

As he trots up to her, the she-wolf seems different. She’s very distant, not fully there, he can see it in her eyes. The sheer, unadulterated pain and fear. This is her first litter he supposes. Yet, he wonders how exactly to help her. Then as he places the flowers beside her, her head falls, she’s passed out. Or so he hopes. If she died he wouldn’t be above ripping open her belly and ripping each puppy out one by one. Licking them off and putting them neatly on a breast of the dead mother. He wouldn’t be afraid to raise them as his own to be the future of his pack. Yet, he hopes he won’t have to.

Curiously he steps closer, basically over her. Nudging her guess with a strong muzzle hard enough for her head to wobble, he does this a few times. Slithering our a blackened tongue to lick over her eyes and nose, the appendage flat and large over her face. Lifting his head then he gazes down to her nether regions, nudging the bottom of her tail to see if she is crowning. Unable to see in the dim light, he won’t know until a pup pops out. 

Rising back to her face he nudges her one more, this time a bit more violently in an attempt to wake her up. He wordlessly sits awaiting a reaction.