Nova Peak r is for…

Everything hurt so much all the time, Masquerade welcomed her labor pains with a sense of relief. It didn’t feel early to her as she sprawled in the dugout, panting through the ebb and flow of contractions. She could hardly wait to push, desperate to meet her children and reclaim her body.

After days of discomfort and hours of pain, she finally delivered the first fruit of her labors. Masque startled when she bent to clean her firstborn. He was so little. She had seen her fair share of newborns and he seemed so much smaller, though she took his fussing as a good sign.

The second and third pups arrived in quick succession, their bodies just as tiny and wriggly. The new mother diligently cleaned them and placed them beside their nursing brother. Masque waited for them to latch, equal parts wondering and worried.

She fully anticipated the afterbirth next—the image of Avicus consuming hers was forever branded on her mind’s eye—and she supposed she would eat it too. Masque was pleased but depleted. She could use the nutrients. So could they.

The next contraction brought forth a fourth puppy instead, even smaller than her tiny siblings. Masquerade’s heart leaped and sank in a matter of seconds. She delicately cleared away the amniotic fluids. The puppy took a breath, though she didn’t cry. She hardly moved.

Less than an hour later, her daughter’s cold body lay limp in her arms. Just as she’d taken care of the afterbirth, Masque wouldn’t let the pup’s death go to waste. It was a sad and grisly business, though eating her remains would hopefully help her litter mates thrive despite their premature arrival.

Afterward, she christened them, Riot… Rowdy… Ruckus… Masque paused to swallow before murmuring, And Rumpus.