Dragoncrest Cliffs Freshet

To the sea she went, taking the dark and tunnel that led from the cliff tops to the shore. She paused now and again to croon into the darkness, her songbird voice choked by spasms of pain. She leaned her shoulder against the dark, mist-damp stones, sporting a grimace of a grin as the stones she relied on so much now held her up.

There was little light to illuminate the tunnel’s exit onto the beach, the half-moon had dipped down over the horizon, leaving a starry sky above the dark and stormy waves that crashed against the shore.

high tide.

She groaned. This was not her plan; if only the children could have waited until the morning when the tide was lower, then she could have had the planned water-birth that she wanted to have. She could still breathe and move between her contractions yet- it wasn’t quite time, the children weren’t quite ready, but she felt antsy nonetheless.

She moved to the ocean’s edge where the beach was steep from where the high waves met it. Pebbles shifted beneath her paws, forcing her to take a step back. She meandered along the shoreline toward the tide pools which were even more dangerous than the open beach. Here, the water swelled with no notice, white caps crashing upon the rocks- before being sucked back out to sea.

Water surrounded the thoughtstone- it would be too small a surface anyway.

She waited for the tide to recede. Wave after wave beat against the beach, and wave after wave of contractions she weathered, stubbornly refusing to completely abandon her birth plan.

She called for @Mireille, @Val, @Svalinn- fully aware that she would be revealing the paternity of her children by summoning the golden man. She didn’t care- her feelings were the same. These were her children, she was their mother. She hoped that for them, Svalinn might step up, to be as doting as Val had been over the last few years.

The first child did not wait for an audience, however, and once she felt her legs become warm and slick she pushed. With a cry of joy and pain, her first child was born on a soft, wet bed of kelp, warmed by her body heat. She bathed her little daughter, and breathed the chiming syllables of her name into the misty night air.

”Chéri,” Her dear one, the fourth daughter that she had brought into the world. She coddled @Cheri, made sure her airways were clear, and held her close so she would be warm and sheltered from the blast of cold air. Chacal couldn’t feel it- her muscles seized and clenched.

She kept her nest of kelp orderly- still far enough from the surf that even a surge wave could not reach them. They would be baptized by the spray and mist- it would have to suffice. As her packmates arrived she would greet them, but her focus remained on her current task.

The second child born in the bed of kelp would be a sister for her first, and while she could not hear it, Chacal sang her name to her. ”Roux,” for her fifth daughter, who brought a smile to her eyes. @Roux was cleansed, kept safe from the grate of sand on the bed of twisted kelp, and nestled against her side as she began to strain again.

The next to be born would be her third son. His name floated to her lips, rising as if like a prayer. ”Jean-Heron,” she said, fascinated as she realized that the pale boy’s markings split right down the centre of his face. @Jean-Heron would be a striking lad, she decided, as she prepared to welcome the next.

She was weary, but her fourth child came forth swiftly and spared her the need to fight and shift. A little girl- her sixth now, making her the mother of ten!- brought with her a name that caused the now teary-eyed mother to smile. ”Elosie,” she breathed. @Elosie too would be cleaned, and tucked in safely by her side, resting on the bed of soft kelp as she recovered.

The tide began to recede, and over the cliffs the horizon began to glow, but never brighter than the woman who had become a mother for the third time.