Ankyra Sound V. That's the way the cornbread crumbles, that's the way the whole thing ends.

Part 5. 5/14.

She wasn't alone.

The hairs along her back stood up as a scuttling sound bounded down the tunnel, replaced by the slow drag of nails along stone.

Backed up against a dark column of ancient flowstone, Raleska's yellow eyes were the only thing that broke through the dark.

Luminant, white-rimmed, wide.

Somewhere outside of her periphery, something prowled. Her ears strained as her eyes feebly tried to cut through the blackness of the cave. Nothing, nothing -- but she could hear something and it sent a chill of terror through her.

Somewhere, a slow and purposeful breathing sounded out from the dark -- a shadowed behemoth rousing for the hunt.

Trying his hardest to make the female uncomfortable–which really isn’t that hard–his nails tap tap tap, on the cave floor. Around the two is a thick layer of the darkest blacks, but this females eyes–a beacon in the night. His breath comes out in puffs of steam and he rounds to the girls left, a low growl let rein from his lips. Then a rumbling chuckle cascades through her ears, deep and smooth, it sounds like he comes closer. 

Still consumed by the shadows, he speaks. “Now, what brings you here?” The deep voice questions. His tone malicious and teasing.

There's just the slightest continuity break in the shadows; a little glimmer of blue darting off of the hulk's massive back that drew Raleska's attention. Her gaze fell sharply upon the nebulous presence, her hackles raised upright as quills.

She did not like him or the way he made her feel -- she did not like the tone of his voice, nor the way he click-click-clicked his nails across the stone floor as if drawing pleasure out of her discomfiture. Terror was too bland a sense for what Raleska felt then: it was a sense of feeling her life was in overwhelming jeopardy. Forget the bastard lives worming in her gut -- her life was imperiled here.

She unfurled her limbs and stood strong -- no, this was her home. Her birthplace. Who the fuck was he to come threatening and lumbering in, and make her feel small? Her lips curled back in a snarl, and despite the mortal fear she felt quivering and making her legs feel like jelly, Raleska stood tall and fired a riposte back into the darkness. "That's none of your business. Get out."

His eyes are stuck to the smaller females form, he’s had enough of that sass for now then, he decides. Coming closer, she’s sure to be able to see his outline well enough. “I wouldn’t sass me if I were you. Especially with a belly full of pups.” 

He slinks ever closer, head held high, shoulders squared, teeth gleaming off the borderline nonexistent light. He doesn’t think she has the guts to do anything to him. He stares down to her, coming to stand an uncomfortable three feet away, purposely towering over her. Then as to see where she stands with fight or flight, he bares impressive teeth. “Or would you like me to get rid of those for you?” He asks savagely, his own golden eyes bearing down on her.

He came close -- too close. Raleska's gums lifted, a neat row of teeth bared as she watched him skulk from murky shadow to mealy light, truly one of the largest creatures she had ever seen grace the Grotto.

As if her fur could not stand anymore at end.

She lifted her chin; he was trying to cow her, to humiliate her. Well, he could fuck off. As if it was not debasing enough, being fat and pregnant, with blood trickling down her legs, hiding in a den alone..

Did he seriously just threaten her? Raleska's back was already up, but now her ears flared forward and an aggressive snarl met the hybrid. Her laugh was bitter and short. "What are you going to do, carve them out of me?" Her heart was racing fearfully, but Raleska was too proud to give him the satisfaction to see the terror in her gaze. No, he could have anything -- but he would not have her cowing before him like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

If only he knew the true reason she was here.

So she is bleeding? Cause if she is imma make it to where he smells it and all that.

He laughs in her face, his black-purple tongue on display, only making him appear more demon than wolf or dog. “Aww, you’re trying to act all tough now, huh darling?” He asks faux sweetness replacing the distinctly teasing tone he used just moments before.

Again, he comes closer. Close enough he could reach out and touch her if he stretched his neck enough. That’s exactly what he does; craning his head down to her level his brows raise, his eyes are half lidded, and his smile is sweet. If they weren’t in the situation that they were in, he might even be deemed handsome.

Replying back to her last sentence, his golden orbs star straight inter own, so much like his. “I’d love to. If you’re offering, of course.” He croons down to her, voice velvety soft and husky.

Yup!

He was giving her the creeps. Raleska's skin was crawling with goosebumps as the monster came closer. She could feel the current of his breath, sense the warmth of his frame -- only, nothing about him seemed warm or welcoming in that moment.

She lifted her chin stupidly. She was not going to snivel like a pup before some creep that got a hard-on from making little girls cry. Her tail made its own arch above her hips in response.

Now he was too close - as if he hadn't been totally violating her personal space seconds before. The moment she felt his nose touch hers Raleska freaked out, overwrought with revulsion. She issued several snaps towards his muzzle, uncaring if they struck or not -- she just wanted him out of her space. "Get the fuck away from me, creep!" She snarled, an edge in her voice that had her guts squirming with visceral discomfort.

Fuck the babies, and fuck him -- Raleska didn't give a shit about the puppies in her stomach, but she sure cared about her hide, which presently seemed seconds away from being torn to pieces. She tried her best to map out the cavern they were in, factoring any routes of escape she could manage. Luckily for her, she knew the Grotto possibly better than any living wolf alive, having grown up here -- but somehow, nothing about this cold, dark cave screamed 'home'.

It screamed 'crypt'.

All of a sudden the females snapping towards him, her teeth accurately scraping his nose and the area his whiskers sat. Minuscule droplets of blood bead to the surface and he back up slightly and raises his head out of her reach. He stares daringly back down to her, his nose picking up the smell of his own blood but now that he actively inhales breath, he smells her own too.

Backing up enough to give her space he laughs grimly. “Why are you here?” He growls back, readying his stance just Incase she tries escaping, he knows he’d be able to catch up to her. “It smells like something’s wrong with you.” 

Raleska blinked in surprise as she actually caught the male, watching as he stepped back. Good, that was all she had wanted -- for him to get the hell out of her face. Her fur was still puffy, a ridgeline raised along her haunches and neck -- but at least now her teeth were sheathed.

Why did he care what she was doing here? A prickling sensation of pain nabbed at her flank, suddenly taking precedence over the fear she felt. "Why do you care?" The Eyjolfur shot back, willing her legs to cooperate and stop from wiggling -- she felt at any moment that she might sink through the floor, or the world would go black -- there was, in the corner of her mind, a gathering cloud of anxiety that darkened her thoughts.

There was something wrong with her; something bad had started early, and if she didn't know any better, she would have thought whatever stirred in her belly had died and turned to rot. She had been bleeding for hours; the inside of her hind legs were matted now with mucus and blood. If it weren't for the occasional striation of movement that let her know life still scrabbled underneath her skin, Raleska would have believed she was due to give birth to stillborns. "Get out of my face." She perked up, meeting his gaze for the first time in challenge. She hated him more than she hated everything else about her life in this moment, and hoped that he tripped and fell in the Grotto's pool and snapped his neck. Anything to wipe that stupid, creepy smile from his face.

He shakes his head at her, he can tell she’s probably in pain. If he wasn’t mistaken he seems like she’s already in labor. He doesn’t care about the rugged female whatsoever, doesn’t care about the spawns inside of her–hell he’s killed pups before. He has yet to kill any pregnant female. He wonders if he wants to keep it that way. The voice he hears within him is the voice of his father, long dead and gone, telling him that if he refused to kill something, no matter what it was, he was to be considered weak. As have the previous leaders of The Saints have taught. Even though he’s seen the elders of his now disbanded pack slaughter anything that could walk, women bearing up were no different, he’s not sure if he’s ready to pop that cherry just yet. The thought of him hesitating makes him want to bash his skull on the cave walls until he bleeds. It pisses him off to no end. He isn’t weak, but he thinks he’ll pass on this one.

He gazes to her brows furrowed and mouth set in a stern line, almost curving into a frown. “I fucking don’t.” He spits back to her. 

Why do you care? Those words sending him back to the memory of that dog, Sasha. When she too had been pregnant except with his pups. His same reply was, I fucking don’t. That was the last he’d seen of her before she blew the whistle on his pack, leading the humans back to them, leading his pack to slaughter.

So then he stands there, shaking off the memory, he hums thoughtfully. “Fine then.” He says like a pouty little child. “As you wish.” He growls back, seemingly snapping back into reality, reliving the past.

The difference in behavior so stark in contrast that anyone would be confused as to what happened. Turning his back to the female he pads to the wall of the cave a few meters away and slumps his body down beside it. Hind legs kicked out to the side as he leans on his elbows with a shoulder against the wall. He’ll stay here for the night, he doesn’t care what the female says. After all, of his. One doesn’t betray him, it’s beginning to rain.

Was that it? Raleska nearly had whiplash from the change in demeanor -- from overbearingly creepy to suddenly.. disinterested?

Her eyes narrowed in mistrust. This was not normal. This was not safe.

Her heart was beating a million miles a second. Somewhere under her chest was an arrhythmic susurration, not good. It took everything in her power for her breaths to not come in little gasps, for her legs not to sink like stones through water.

He was moving away. She didn't trust the shadows that harbored him anymore than she trusted the beast within; flinching still from his dismissal, Raleska's tail began to fall to her slick sides. She winced as a new onset of pain stole through her like shards of molten glass -- yet she stupidly could not bring herself away from this cave, away from where she was now. It was like being here with Ephraim all over again -- only this time she wasn't burying her mother, she was burying herself.

A strangled gasp took ahold of her as the irritating ripple became a full-on blast of agony. She lost control of her hind end as she flinched, sinking to the floor as reverberations of astute pain dominated her body.

Lost in thought for a moment as he leans against the wall. His mind wanders to the great and dangerous thought he’d just lost himself to only moments ago. The female could be planning an attack on him and he wouldn’t even now it. Even if she did he knows that he’s got a good number of advantages on her. More than she has on him anyway. Unbeknownst to him, the she wolf seems to be having a trying time. The pains that pulsate through her making her gasp. His ears flick back at the breathy noise, then a thump of her body meeting the ground finally causes him to turn his head. If he hasn’t seen a she-wolf give birth, he’s definitely swing one now. She writhes in pain and he wonders, if for just a moment, should he help her? He might just.

Standing from his spot on the floor, he gazes to her through the layers of shadows clouding his vision. He sniffs around the and eyes the ground expectantly, finding a white flower much like a daisy, known to him and many others as a calming plant, a chamomile. Picking some, then trekking further to find more he lands on another flower, known to help remedy pain a celandine. Yellow in coloring with bright green leaves. Grabbing a good some of each, he won’t bother to crush them up.

Upon his arrival back to the cave, the trek only took a rather quick twenty minutes. His claws tap on the cave floor once more, but instead of coming forward with bares teeth, he comes into the measly light a muzzle full of flowers, lovely yellow and white flowers.

All he does is drop then before her. “Eat them. It’ll help with the pain.” He says it confidently. No smirk on his face, no malicious intent hidden behind his gaze, just a regular facial expression almost completely devoid of emotion.

This arcing, needling, blinding pain

She was panting, pressing her shoulder against the bare touch of the cold stone wall. Losing control, losing balance. The rippling of discomfort that fanned out from her flank was now a steady droning whine -- at the back of her tongue a sharp dryness tinged metallic.

Was this what giving birth was? It felt so much worse -- so... so wildly out of her control, so painful, so inhumane.

Her vision was clouding, darkening -- was he getting up? Was he moving? Motes of blackness seemed to swirl across her vision. She fought hard against whatever onset of new torture this was -- why weren't her legs working, why was she feeling like she was sinking,

sinking down

through the dark cave floor, through the dirt, down into the dark and undisturbed blue deep.

Her blood dropping, her mind buzzing. Swarming, droning. Rushing, maybe like the sound of waves or the noise of a distant, furious galaxy colliding -- a twitch, a tremor -- something crawling up and down her skin..

What was happening? She tried to speak but felt she was folding into herself, fading away while her body was very much still there. Was he still there? She fought against slipping away, and suddenly she was gone but her body convulsing, spasming -- unaware that feet away the shadow had returned with flowers to still a malaise in her body that simply could not be stilled.

As he trots up to her, the she-wolf seems different. She’s very distant, not fully there, he can see it in her eyes. The sheer, unadulterated pain and fear. This is her first litter he supposes. Yet, he wonders how exactly to help her. Then as he places the flowers beside her, her head falls, she’s passed out. Or so he hopes. If she died he wouldn’t be above ripping open her belly and ripping each puppy out one by one. Licking them off and putting them neatly on a breast of the dead mother. He wouldn’t be afraid to raise them as his own to be the future of his pack. Yet, he hopes he won’t have to.

Curiously he steps closer, basically over her. Nudging her guess with a strong muzzle hard enough for her head to wobble, he does this a few times. Slithering our a blackened tongue to lick over her eyes and nose, the appendage flat and large over her face. Lifting his head then he gazes down to her nether regions, nudging the bottom of her tail to see if she is crowning. Unable to see in the dim light, he won’t know until a pup pops out. 

Rising back to her face he nudges her one more, this time a bit more violently in an attempt to wake her up. He wordlessly sits awaiting a reaction.

Raleska did not move of her own accord while Donovan stood over her, his shadow cast long and warped against the cavern wall. The seizure that had overtaken her frame had fully taxed her energies -- it seemed in her mind's feeble attempt to protect itself, her systems had shut down.

She would wake eventually, but for now, the girl bled unconsciously on the floor that had once been her mother's Ceremonial room.

Donovan out! Since I wouldn’t want him intruding on her birth or waiting around (at least in sight) since you already did her birth thread. I’m down to do more threads with her if you’d like too, just hit me with a pm. ;>

The male wonders what’s happened to her. Hopping she and the little devils that reside inside her haven’t fallen prey to the always consuming death. He doesn’t know too much about being a medic, or maybe it’s just about pregnant women, but no matter the amount of prodding and poking, she just won’t seem to wake.

With his last attempt in mind, he rests his nose just below her own, waiting to see if he can feel her breath. He does thankfully, but it’s weak. He deems that worthy enough for a success and maybe some hope that she’ll make it through. Perhaps he will come back in a few hours to check on her. Until then, he will slink around outside the cave, giving the birthing female her much needed rest. He’ll be back to check on her once he’s gotten some food in him. Shit, he might even bring some back for her as well.