Northstar Vale I wake up in the night to watch you breathe.

Labor starts on the night of the 13th, with most of the litter born on the 14th near midnight. Please let kids post first, then its a free for all!

It started late in the afternoon, while the birds were singing their usual sundown chorus.

She hadn't managed to sleep properly in the past few days or eat anything, as her appetite vanished entirely. When @Akavir brought her food she'd try to eat it, but it would inevitably turn her stomach - or go through her rapidly, which was the reason Ibis lingered outside the safety of her den the moment things began to change. She hastily covered the mess of diarrhea with a layer of loose soil and waddled towards the den mouth — feeling a rush of something warm leaking down her inner thigh, which prompted panic.

Then came the first low, throbbing wave of pain. It was unlike any feeling she'd experienced before; coming in like a rolling tide, lingering for a moment, and then ebbing out again. She winced and tried to breathe deeply, hoping that she could make herself relax, but... It came again minutes later, a fierce burn. Sitting did nothing to remedy the feeling so, Ibis began to pace. She was so focused on the feeling that she didn't think to call for help.

The contractions picked up in frequency over the course of the next few hours, pulsing through her. One of the babies kicked, another squirmed, as if they were fighting inside of her for freedom; finally, as the air began to cool and the sun had started to set, Ibis felt another shift. She tucked her shoulders in to the den mouth and dragged her fat belly inside, barely managing to turn around before something warm and heavy rolled out of her and hit the dirt — instinct took over from there. She grabbed for the lump, drawing it close to pierce the sack and clean away the mess. (Borras.)

Before she could finish, the second began to shift inside of her, and Ibis stopped everything. She braced against the earth, pushed her shoulder against one of the den walls - thinking, should have made this bigger - and grit her teeth, swallowing a shout as the next child came along, but only halfway. Something felt different about this one. After attempting to push for about ten minutes, Ibis had to pause and breathe, and felt her abdominal muscles begin to spasm. She turned within the den, tried to angle herself around her gut and look at her rear end where the puppy was stuck, but couldn't do much. As a second wave of sharp pains rolled through her lower back, she forced herself to push, push, push, even though she felt like she was being ripped in half.

The second babe hit the dirt, same as the first. She could barely make out the shape of it against the den floor, but as she moved to clean its face, her paws slipped against the mess turning the safe little den slick and muddy; had there been more light within the space, Ibis would've been stunned by the deepening crimson tone around her. As she worried over the child she noticed how large it seemed; this, and the first-born, were immense. Neither was making any noise — they did not squawk for air, they did not call out for milk, they merely sat there - like warm stones - and Ibis knew, somehow, that they were gone. (Taku.)

After these two arrived, the rest came swiftly. It was as if a flood gate was opened and in quick succession, two more babes slid from Ibis. She was exhausted. Her entire body screamed at her. She felt wave after wave, rising up to turn around and try to settle again, agitated and unable to find a position that would lessen her struggle. The next set arrived promptly: a tawny girl (@Arielle) that was freed from her sack and pulled greedily to Ibis' breast, and then her silver-clad sister (@Lilitu); both of them were so very alive, practically punching their way free while Ibis was tending to them.

She licked their faces, warmed them within the crutch of her limbs, pressing them close enough to feel their furious little heartbeats.

The last to be born was a tiny thing, and his arrival was more relaxed than the others. Ibis was too worn out to shift around by this point, and did not stand, did not even move to gather this final child close as he was delivered. She felt him moving against the dirt. (Oliver.)

The queen lethargically looked to the wetness between her legs and saw him there, only to breathe a heavy sigh and lay back down, holding her two daughters close instead. This final babe might have had a chance but he looked so tiny - and she was so very, very tired - that it just wasn't worth it, at least not to Ibis' instinct-driven brain in those last fleeting moments. Soon the child would stop struggling - Ibis thought - and when its feeble attempts faded, as it suffocated there by the far wall, a calm fell upon Ibis and her little ones.