Deepwood Weald Ahead by a Century

She closed her eyes, and tried to pretend that nothing else existed besides herself and the soft rustle of wind in the forest. It was easy to get lost in the beauty of the Weald, even when there was a pack of wolf children inside her desperately trying to squat and declare this as their permanent home. 

Her husband’s voice brought her back to reality just in time for her to feel another bone-shuddering contraction. She weathered it, wondering if her contractions were getting easier to bear because she was going into shock; she certainly hoped not. 

Raindrop spoke up, and Simbelmyne yet again rolled her eyes. ”You tell em lay down, now you tell me to walk,” she declared, irritated by the change in plans. ”If you do not know what you are doing, you can go,” Her voice became pinched as she felt her muscles cramp again. Suddenly, she began to feel pressure, and the need to push.

”Clear the way!” She said as she brushed past both wolves and back into the den. There, she circled and lay down, grunting through her pain, until she felt at last that something had passed through her, and into her world. She sat up and found at her hind end, a small pup still encased in her birth sac. 

In the quiet wake, she cleaned the pup and nuzzled the boy until he breathed, crying out at first while she turned him over gently to free him completely. His fur was ashy grey, but noticeably darker along his back and shoulders; on his face was a mask, one quite similar to her own. 

”A boy!” She breathed softly as she nudged him to her side. She took her time to make sure he was clean, and to make sure that he latched on well to get access to her milk. 

She was given a break; in that time, she would croon softly to her newborn, and beam proudly at her husband.