Stone Circle may these words be the first to find your ears

They be born!! A day early, but we can forward date this to tomorrow, it's a busy week and I'm not sure if I'll have the time to post tomorrow itself <3 Welcome to Kvarsheim kiddos!! <33 I don't know if your puppy accounts are made so I'll tag your other ones just in case! @Vale Enid @Wren @Eshe @Gunnar

In a quiet and secret place, four little hearts slip into the circle of stones.

Her labour began in the early morning hours and stretched through noon and late day. Only now as the sun touches down and spills the evening over the land, Taktuq turns to look upon her brood -- exhausted, yet brimming with wonder and love.

Only one looks much like her. He is the eldest, the first among kin, with stony furs like a variegated storm. Beyond this she can tell very little of who he is, what his future will be, only that he is sturdy and large and beautiful. She has many hopes for these children: that they will bring beauty to the Wilds, and goodness, even if this takes their paws on journey miles away. She longs for them to bless the Wilds, and so, she blesses them. She leans down and kisses her firstborn's head. He is not much older than his siblings, and yet, he bears a mantle she knows will be heavy. Yet she and Gunnar and all of Kvarsheim will be with him in this. I bless you, eldest one, she begins to whisper, may you care for your siblings as though they were yourself, may you watch them and love them with a willing heart. May your name be renowned as a protector of kin, may you carry peace throughout the Valley and to the lands where you are led. You are born of Stone Circle, cut from the rock and hemmed to be ours. You are Kvarsheim's, and we are yours. Ujurak, she decides. Ujurak Baldir, her stone prince.

The second carries Gunnar's tawny fur. She, too, is strong, and sturdy, boasting paws beyond her size. Darker browns fall along her back and Taktuq considers her with a different affection, a different tender eye. She is like her: the only sister amongst a crowd of boys. But Taktuq knows the women of the Circle will be as sisters to this little one, as Tauris has been to her, and she prays Inkeri might have girls also, to grow up alongside her and to be woman with her. I bless you, second one, sweet daughter of mine. May you soften your brothers and come alongside them. Sharpened yourself and sharpen them with the wit and way only woman may give. You are born of Stone Circle, formed from the clay, and shaped to be ours. Be of courage, and strength, and fidelity, and love. You are Kvarsheim's, and we are yours. Astrid Ahnah, already her divinely beautiful, may she grow to be a woman ever wiser.

The third again carries Gunnar's brown fur, but is intermixed with Taktuq's own soft greys. His back, however, is shaded far deeper, dark, which reminds her of her aunt Valette, and even more, of her cousin Merrit, and her thoughts drift to him. She only met him in swift meetings during her travels to and fro, but he always welcomed her, and she recalls the conversations she has had with him - deep, and reflective, of faith beyond her knowing, but one she admires, and sometimes wonders after. He has told her, too, of the one he follows, and of what he is like - his goodness and all his counsel. Perhaps her children might reflect this, too, I bless you, third one, but not least of mine. May your heart be kind and your soul be good. You are born of Stone Circle, of the mighty birch, rooted and grown to be ours. May your eyes see the helpless, the weak, and the lost, may your strong arms be a shelter, may your voice be their hope. You are Kvarsheim's, and we are yours. Kristjan Tulugaak, may he bear the marks of a Christ-bearer, may he be a bringer of light.

The last is darker than all the others - darker than Valette, and Merrit himself. Perhaps this comes from Gunnar's side. Perhaps, too, the splatter of light across his back, tiny freckles, forming stars in the inky black of his fur. They peek through like stars on a clear night and she is mesmerized by them. He is the smallest of the four but his paws, too, speak of the man he will become. Strong, she prays, of heart and of mind. Rich, she hopes, in the giving of himself. I bless you, lastborn, my darling son. May your words and your actions be true to each other, and may grace guide you to right judgment of strangers, packmates, and kin. You are born of Stone Circle, of the stars on a cloudless night, set in darkness to shine as ours. May you grow to be strong, and a holder of truth; may you carry your victories and your scars with humility, as did the one I name you for. You are Kvarsheim's, and we are yours. Sven Adlartok, her little warrior, may his heart be as clear as the clear sky that lets the light shine through.

They are beautiful. They are hers. They are Gunnar's, too, and he will meet them now. Hear of the names they carry, from the ones they spoke of between each other in the days her delivery neared.

And lets out a soft call for him to come and meet his daughter and sons.