Qeya River symphony of life

Sakhmet had been marred by pain at a young age.

But it had always been emotional. The loss of two brothers, the loss of her home and family. Loss, loss, loss.

She had never been kissed by pain from receiving. She had never felt what kind of pain came from blessings. This was it though. The pain that drove her instincts to take over, the sensations of fierce protectiveness for herself and those about to enter this world.

It was euphoria as much as it was hell.

There would be one, at first. A small but robust son who, regardless if he was loud or quiet, would be quickly cleaned and shoved to her side. Hopefully comforted by the warmth and promise of food to be found.

Some time would pass before the second one. Enough that she briefly worried before the familiar sensation kicked her again. The second one arrived in a similar state to the first.

Another son, just as healthy from what she could tell. Tongue smothering him as it had the first before she moved him to her side as well.

Pain lingered and pulsed, but there would be nothing else. Nothing that Lane had warned her of. It would remain a possibility and not a reality. She had nothing half formed or unmoving. She had been gifted two lively sons, each whole and perfect.

She had never felt her heart swell as much as it did here.

Two sons.

Alive and healthy.

Born of Sakhmet and Kigipigak.

Sons, It was all she could muster in her to whisper in the dark of the den.