Sequoia Coast [m] pineapple

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Graphic depictions of birth.

She lay in the snow cave, finding no relief except the warmth that built inside, and the voice of the man urging her to try.

Hadn't she been excited once, for this? Had that been a dream?

Wilwarin could not make words but she called to her mother anyway. She called to her sisters, she clawed at the packed ice of the shelter walls, kicking and pawing through the dark. Her eyes squeezed shut and the pain shifted, becoming too intense for description, and the real trial began.

Waves of contractions coursed her body and demanded she accept, she release, she let free those new lives—and yes, she met that pain only to transcend through it. Panting, her face split in to silent screams, gasping, begging.

Something came loose and was free of her; it was small—too small! The caul trapped it, and Wilwarin was too gripped by further pain to look. The child barely moved and then it kicked, and then nothing.

By the time the first was still, a second came; this was more painful as the body was turned, and Wilwarin moved to her feet to squat and be done with it. This second child she looked at and saw it was even smaller than the first! It's face was split in two, but joined. The child's legs were misshapen.

Wilwarin met the pain and melted in to it. She lay upon the floor and felt weakness, and grief, and horror; she felt the pain and was only alive now because of it. Once the pain were to end, she thought, then I will sleep forever.