Bearclaw Valley should we be dancing with all these madmen?

welcome to the world babies!

For several days Ikkalrok had lingered in demanded isolation. Now and then she tolerated the presence of her mate, but the night prior she had chased him away with fangs and body that would not take no for an answer. Feral as she was, in the precluding hours of birth she was a shade more animalistic if such a thing were at all possible.

She lay in the whelping den when the hour of it all had come. Ancient, primal roots guided her. No spirits, no gods—nothing but her body, her mind. Hours more it took for it to yield anything, and when it did there were only two small, meager things to show for it. She cleaned them, obeying the whim of her own instinct... but once it was all done, she looked upon them and felt rather unimpressed. Weak things. One blow would be all it took to end them.

This who had she been, once? Who they all had been?

So, all began weak. Some remained so all their life.

Her ears pricked as she heard them squeal and she was much too tired herself to regard them beyond ensuring they were not dying. No maternal instinct clung to her heart, but she felt the role of protector nonetheless and she rest her head alongside them. Ikkalrok, then and there, made no bid to call for @Revui this hour. He would know now was not the time to disturb her, or he would learn.