Nova Peak my arms are open

She hears the cries winding up from the foothills— Lorcan’s howl braided with fear.  It could have been an ambush but her mind did not go there. No, somehow she knew the anguish in his voice, the type of sound only another parent could identify. “So soon,” she murmurs breathlessly— too soon.
Ayovi rips off Skorpa’s bear hide and rummages about their den, folding various plants and roots into a scrap of leather. But as the shouts persist she can bear it no longer and flies down the trailways.
Once inside their den, the huntress tosses her bundle aside, moving for the mother with a worried rush. Elowen’s face is contorted with pain, a little foot pressing against the taut skin. Ayovi knew little of childbirth, but it was clear in the twist of the mother—
“Has her water appeared?” The huntress asks Lorcan, nearly forgetting he is there. She rifles in the pouch for devil’s claw and rosemary. “This is for pain, Elowen,” she encourages, praying fear would not lock her up, summoning every memory of her aunts’ time. Some herbs are placed aside for local bleeding while the rest are offered orally. She reaches a paw to press against the young woman’s, squeezing. Then in a little gasp of disbelief and awe she addresses mother and father:
“The babies are coming!”