Noctisardor Bypass non na throu daun gon ai

mahler helped to bear her through the storm, sympathetic as he ever was during this travails, knowing he would never understand the grind of muscle and bone, the churn to bring children earthside.
in time, silvermade praimfaya separated from herself into a dark little body, one that moved and breathed and latched with a newborn's greediness to the side of his mother.
and as usual, the man's throat tightened with the overwhelming emotions of childbirth, the huge swathes of energy moving between mother and son.
her pains began again; the gargoyle pressed close, watchful, rumbling to her alternately in common and his own tongue. a pale babe, a girl, swept clean and nurtured close.
mahler inspected them both closely before he answered, and upturned an encouraging smile to the tired young woman. "yes. sometimes babies choose to be born early. they are healthy."
"i vill keep closer for the next veek," mahler told praimfaya, simply for the fact that her children had come early. 
he would wait to see if more pups arrived, and when there were no more, the gargoyle moved to the herbs he had brought. "for your milk," a quickly chewed bolus of thistle. 
in the next half hour, the grizzled midwife would discreetly remove whatever remained of the afterbirth far from the den to be buried, with a murmur to praimfaya, "vell done, commander," and a promise he would return quite soon.