Nova Peak dearly

A prophecy...

Welcome to the world, my babies. Your births (randomized by dice roll) were prophesied by the witch Aspa, though how faithful her foretelling, only you will decide...

First born @Nowke "...your firstborn shall be blessed with the swiftness of the falcon, and with its piercing sight."

Second born @Mitoge "...the next shall inherit the agility of the stoat— clever, cunning, ever resourceful."

Third born @Chipeta "...the last... may they draw breath at all, this one will be fragile. The fawn and the fourth child are bound with a love so fierce, so fraternal, it devours itself. If your third survives, they will carry within them the weight of devotion. They will guard, they will protect, they will love."

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The fourth dusk of labour is for holding her body rigid, gnawing on berry leaves which have long ago lost their tincture. Squatting to initiate departure, sweeping free membrane to commence a stirring of inexorable fate. Songs in ute mean to dance the children down as beaded salt forms and trickles as sweat upon her brow.
The contractions are violent, bursting from the inside, pooling blood out of her in thick red clods. Each convulsion feels the length of a night. Each time she stands up whole, and unbroken. Paws are slick with the icemelt of her efforts, writhing as agony racks her body. A healer, Ayovi is named, but all her strength is in her seeds. If any came, she would only be able to scream, and a thousand mothers before her knew what good that did.
Pregnancy is radiant, so she is told, but this pounding shock is not beauty, and the crypt beneath her skin which houses her world is stilling. Silent.
For three days the cubs have not moved.

In the coyote hour, with her body still contorted in pain, Ayovi drags herself home, dropping to the floor of the den with tear-stained eyes. Darkness pushes inward. She thinks she sees her husband and throws open her leg, revealing the red swollen skin. At the same time her muscles coil for another convulsion.
“@Skorpa. They are…dying. Skorpa... You…. must cut them out.”