Dragoncrest Cliffs the moon plays the ocean like a violin

This is vague but I wanted to get it up before it was too far out. Set for this morning.

The night proves to be difficult for Thuringwethil. She can’t find one position for her to rest in that’s comfortable. No matter how she sat or laid, each breath causes a wave of pain and her head throbbed off and on through the late hours that eventually lead into the morning. Most of the time she’s sitting up sternal near the back of the cave, @Wildfire nearby but not touching, and she’s staring off at nothing in particular. She’d never been more aware of her breathing as she is now with likely two broken ribs in her chest.

As the morning began to brighten, filling the cave with splashes of sunlight, Thuringwethil groans and tries to shift into a better position. She sucks in a breath when the movement shocks her like a kick to the chest but she tries to keep quiet so she doesn’t draw too much attention to herself. The wounds that covered her body have long stopped bleeding, causing tightness in her skin that is just as uncomfortable and itchy and knowing she can do little about it. Her eye is still bloodshot, though she can’t see it, and her head is filled with a dull ache amplified by the lack of sleep.

Thuringwethil releases a slow breath as she tries once more to shift her weight into something suitable for rest.

She barely slept, attuned to her mate's every movement and discomfort as if they somehow shared blood, bone and nerve endings. Wildfire wished there was something she could do to help Thuringwethil, though aside from Portia's ministrations, the only thing that would knit her wounds was time. Meanwhile, the Bandrona's chestnut eyes peeled open sleepily as she regarded the commander, frowning thoughtfully as she raised her head, then pushed herself upright to inch closer. She didn't touch the Heda, just in case it might cause discomfort.

Wildfire opened her mouth to say something when a by now familiar sensation fluttered in her midsection. "Thur," she breathed quietly. Knowing it was painful for the dark she-wolf to move, Wildfire forewent her earlier hesitation and ever so gently pressed her rounded side to the Heda's nearer leg. "Can you feel it? They're moving." A broad but serene smile crawled over her face. "I like to imagine they're waving and saying, 'Hi, nomi!'"

She closes her eyes as she shares a moment of comfort between breaths. Holding them long enough eased the pain for a few seconds but the release and intake continue to cause more discomfort. For the moment, Thuringwethil only listens to the silence in their nook before the faint shuffle causes her eyelids to slowly retreat. Wildfire’s moved closer, only a few inches apart, but moves to touch one of her limbs. Slate eyes angle downward to see the curve of her belly touch her but in such a position, she does not feel the same movement. She waits a few more seconds, only to feel nothing, but she nods anyway with a hint of a smile.

Most of their conversations are about the puppies. Wildfire is far more ready than she is and she can’t help but wonder if she will ever be ready. It’s not much different than trying to fit a piece of the puzzle from some other life into her own. For now, she can at least appease some of the worry that her excitement will change when their birth occurs. “Have you thought of names?”

Pleased that the commander could feel the gentle stirrings inside her, Wildfire withdrew and sat. She wanted to lean against Thuringwethil but she maintained a distance of a few inches, so as not to cause her any discomfort or pain. As she shifted, the fluttering in her abdomen momentarily snatched her breath away (literally, not figuratively). She waited for the pinched feeling to pass, then relaxed, curling her black tail around her slim haunches.

"Yeah, I've come up with a few," she answered with a smile. "Have you?"

She watches as her mate gets comfortable. The sun begins to rise, giving illumination for her to see. She’d barely registered much of her the day prior and this is the first time she really gets to see her. Her belly is far rounder than it had been when she’d left and she knows it’s only a matter of weeks before they come. The thought feels like a horror story in the back of her mind but she shoves it down until she can only focus on one thing at a time. Worrying about what may happen in the future rarely gets her anywhere and even if she can’t change her emotions now, she knows they may not be the same later.

“Sort of,” she offers. It doesn’t sound very convincing but she hopes to wave it off as the pain it causes every time she takes a bigger breath than her broken ribs prefer. Thuringwethil grunts and tries to find another position when the current becomes problematic. She shifts and one of her legs rest against Wildfire’s while her head lowers to the ground. “Tell me yours.”

The mother-to-be felt a little helpless as she watched her mate try to get into a more comfortable position. Wildfire could sympathize a little bit; her growing belly made things difficult at times. But she wasn't in any pain. Gently, she bent to nuzzle at the commander's ear, giving it a few affectionate nibbles for good measure.

"I was thinking of names to honor my parents," Wildfire said softly, "and I came up with Phoenix and Vixen. I like Phoenix because it's kind of a mix of my mom's and dad's initials in a way, plus it ties into the whole Firebird theme. That's what they called us kids," she explained, glancing into her mate's face. "I was thinking of using that one for a boy. And Vixen for a girl. Bonus points if she takes after me."

She felt her heart skip in excitement as she pondered the puppies who might one day soon bear these monikers. Wildfire then sucked her lower lip into her mouth and caught Thuringwethil's eye, wondering what the Heda made of her ideas.

Thuringwethil closes her feels when she feels Wildfire’s teeth graze her ear. It flicks out of her control but she leans into it—as best as she can, anyway—and lets her mate do as she pleases. When it cease, her eyes flicker open to watch her tell her about the names she’d been thinking about and why. She doesn’t have much to say in response as the level of disconnect becomes more aware. It has come up more than once and repeating it only makes it seem as if she isn’t trying. However, looking back, Thuringwethil isn’t sure how much she actually is trying.

Some of the traditions she has heard over their time together seems a little strange, especially Firebird theme is lost on her. And it’s just as likely things seem strange on her end but Wildfire has left those ways for Drageda, yet she isn’t entirely sure of their placement sometimes.

“I like those,” she says. Her mouth hangs up for a beat longer but eventually, she closes it. She doesn’t have the family to honor with names or similarities for her own children, but she can at least get close. “Artaax was the name of my mentor’s father,” she says as she goes back through those she had been close to over the period of her short childhood. Thuringwethil hadn’t necessarily been close to him but she knew Senja adored him and she supposes that’s the next best thing.

The commander said she liked them and Wildfire felt the warmth in her chest bloom and spread. The name she had chosen for a son was also symbolic in another way, representative of how these pups would spring up in the ashes of tragedy (the deaths of Peregrine and Fox). But Wildfire didn't mention that now, instead listening as Thuringwethil mentioned a name she liked.

"I like that!" the Bandrona said immediately and enthusiastically. She was pretty sure she wouldn't have objected to anything her mate proposed, though she genuinely liked the name. "Looks like we've got a theme going: names with an X." She laughed quietly, eyes dancing and soft black tail twitching merrily back and forth.

Wildfire grew thoughtful for a moment and thought aloud, "I was thinking we could give them surname like Drageda or something else that honors that part of their heritage." She knew Thuringwethil didn't possess a last name and probably didn't see the need for one. "I was also thinking that I could take the name myself. You too, if you want." She tried to school her expression, though her warm chestnut eyes probably gave her away. She would like it very much if the Heda took it too. "And maybe we could offer it to Dio and Portia too. It could be, like, the family name here..."

There isn’t anything else on names for the puppies but Wildfire does circle back to giving them a surname. Thuringwethil had mostly forgotten about that tidbit of information but she nods a little as it does come back into memory. She’d blown it off because it was never important to them prior. None of her wolves from her home uses the name and only Eske had been given a last name because of her mother, even if she does not share the same now. Drakru, she remembers talking to her about, and a smile flutters at her lips.

“Eske has taken the name Drakru as her last name,” she says, not having remembered before. “And it is how we, informally, introduce ourselves, so it kind of is our family name,” she tells her, “kom Drakru.” It is easy enough to drop the from off their name and if it is enough to keep her mate happy, Thuringwethil is happy enough to oblige. “Wildfire Drakru?” she tests upon her own tongue first.

When Thuringwethil mentioned Eske, Wildfire felt a little nip of guilt. She never seemed to catch the yearling one-on-one in order to mentor her, though to be fair the girl didn't seem to seek her out either. With the pregnancy and the pups arriving soon, she really couldn't afford to spare time to train Eske, though she hoped to resume helping her at some point. In the meantime, she really liked the idea of sharing her chosen surname.

"Perfect," Wildfire breathed, eyes glowing. "Thuringwethil Drakru...?" she added tentatively, then plunged right ahead with, "Artaax Drakru, Vixen Drakru, Phoenix Drakru..." Her cheek muscles ached, she was smiling so hard. "What if we have more than three? Chances are good. We should pick out a few more," she added, humming thoughtfully.

Wildfire carefully says her name with the added surname, as if she may reject the idea. It sounds foreign on her tongue, even the length of her first name, but it makes the woman happy. She doesn’t even get a chance to respond, however, before she dives right in to the tentative name of their children and the title they’ll carry at birth. “They will have to earn their name, to call themselves Drakru,” she says after a moment. Everyone else has to earn their title, to earn kom Drakru. She has earned the title and so has Wildfire and so will her children.

"They haven't earned them by merit of their genes?" Wildfire quipped in response. She didn't mind the thought of allowing the children the chance to earn the name, like Eske had done, but mostly because she had no doubt they would do so. "That makes sense," she added, "making it sort of an honorary thing." Her tail switched.

"What if—" she began after a moment of looking ponderous. She paused, then continued, "What if we named one after a bird of some sort? We don't have to, that's just another big theme in my family I wouldn't mind continuing. Although I guess Phoenix sort of covers that base, doesn't it?" she mused before once more trailing off with a thoughtful hum.

Wildfire’s questions her a moment before she accepts the condition. Thuringwethil nods her head and though she doesn’t have to further explain, she chooses to do so anyway. “Everyone else earns their place here and so do our children, even if there isn’t a name attached. Now, they get something to go along with it,” she explains. They’d go through the same scrutiny as any of the others, as Gyda and Gavriel’s children had, and being their own children shouldn’t exempt them from their ways.

It isn’t long before Wildfire moves on, talking of another tradition her family has. Thuringwethil tries to keep her expression level as she goes on. Content just watching her work through the process, she focuses on her mate and her excitement over the children instead of her discomfort. She even attempts a nod when asked about the name they had chosen but instead of answering, she releases a shaky breath after a particular painful stab in her chest.

Although she was rather caught up in her thoughts about baby names, Wildfire did notice the shaky breath and she looked at the Heda, scrutinizing her poker face. "On a scale of one to ten," she asked, seemingly apropos of nothing, "how much pain are you in right now?" She let out a breath, then added, "And is there anything I can do...?" Her brows knitted. She felt helpless to do anything for the ailing commander, aside from sympathize. The Bandrona had taken her fair share of spills over the years, thanks to her penchant for clumsiness.

Much to her surprise, Wildfire doesn’t continue on with the names. Instead, her face changes expressions which cause her face to twist and the question to follow is enough of an explanation. Her nose wrinkles a little and she considers the scale. The paint she feels is great in number but is it the worst? She has felt pain in a different way and having been in the teekon has reduced her stamina. She knows she isn’t as active as she needs to be and perhaps this is enough to change that. Perhaps she could have prevented this.

“A three,” she says with a pained smile, scooting her nose along the cool floor until she brushes against Wildfire. “I’ll be fine,” she adds as an afterthought. There isn’t anything she needs right now. Eventually, she’ll need to get up and get her legs moving but for now, everything can wait and she can avoid the extra discomfort another time.

The Bandrona let out a little sigh of relief when Thuringwethil reported a relatively low number, though there was still tension as she considered the fact that her mate was in any amount of pain at all. "If I can do anything..." she more or less repeated herself, shifting a little and causing what felt like an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter around in her midsection. The sensation caused Wildfire to freeze aside from some rapid blinking.

"The babies are on the move again," she reported after a beat of silence. "It's a lot stronger this time. Want to feel again?" She leaned tellingly toward her mate. Maybe this was what she could do: offer Thuringwethil some happy distractions.

Wildfire seems to accept her answer, or at least not press for more information about it, and goes right back to the children. She stares at her mate for a moment, wondering if anything else crosses her mind at times or if, just like her body, she is full up on puppies. The thought causes a single chuckle, which also brings pain, and she slowly nods to try and hide away the sensation. As best as she can, she scoots closer to press her nose nearby, feeling with the side of her cheek to the movements and sounds within.