Moonspear smallest wingless

Still she cradled her “sleeping” son, memorizing his face, his smell, the way dark gray speckled an otherwise pale coat. His fur was so soft, his nose and the pads of his paws even softer. His tiny tail was as small as a mouse’s and was the first part of him to begin stiffening with rigor mortis.

Meerkat knew it was time to bury him. But even as the dead puppy grew cold and rigid in her arms, she fretted. Was he truly dead? Beyond hope? She wanted one of Moonspear’s healers to come and make certain. Only then would she let @Njord take him away for burial.

She was afraid to move, herself, and desperate for answers. She wasn’t in any pain now and the bleeding had stopped. Meerkat was certain she wasn’t in labor. Was the dead babe in her arms the only thing she had to show for this season? Had the stress of losing her home and her elder son caused her to lose her litter, despite finding such wonderful refuge in their new village?

Tightening her forelegs around her child, Meerkat tipped her head toward the ulaq’s ceiling and sent up a mournful cry for help.

This is set a few hours after this. All are welcome.

Alaric heard the call and was imediately on edge. Meerkat was due, but it was far too early. So with trepidation in his heart he heeded her call, but he didn't push into her den. That would be a cruel intrusion.

 Instead he gave a soft keen. Meerkat? he asked whisper soft. Waiting at the mouth of the den.

He knew she preferred Sialuk, but it sounded urgent.

By chance, Elentari happened to be in the area when she heard the cry. A call for help, laced with grief. Abandoning her search for sites for a ulaq of her own, she made haste. It came from the den of the expectant mother, Meerkat. A lovely woman she had yet to better acquaint herself with. 

She treaded lightly as she neared the den. Her nerves were on edge, eased slightly when she discovered Alaric had already arrived. Chuffing softly, gently, she nosed Alaric's shoulder. Outside the den mouth she hovered. "Is everything okay?" She doubted it. "What...what can we do?" She asked, sensing the delicate nature of Meerkat's circumstances.

Stingray was there as fast as his legs could carry him down the mountainside, but not fast enough to beat the first responder. Alaric and Elentari were already there, both awfully close to his parents' den for the boy's comfort. Maybe if he knew either wolf better, he wouldn't be so on edge, but the urgency of Meerkat's cry had him shoving his way between two near strangers and his beloved mother on the inside.

Back up, he gruffly barked at the pair, a growl edging his voice. They were by no means intruding on the den, but any stranger standing a mile away from his ailing ma would be too close for Stingray. He was protective of her and the little lives she carried. They could assess her once her family had arrived and she agreed, and no sooner.

Ray quickly scanned their surroundings for Njord, who was sure to arrive soon if he was in the area, then ducked his head low and crooned a quiet, ma? What happened?

Sialuk swooped in, unsurprised to find several others already gathered around. Alaric and Elentari were capable healers, but Meerkat was her sister. She brushed past them, finding the small family of three—no, four. Sialuk peered down at the small body Meerkat clutched between her forelegs.

The starwoman frowned, drawing close to the impossibly small body with a watchful eye on both Njord and Stingray, should they intervene. Meerkat, sistrang, she said, her eyes full of sorrow for the babe that had too soon gone to the dancing lights.

Within moments, faces familiar and unfamiliar crowded in the ulaq’s doorway, throwing the interior into shadows. Before Meerkat could come up with any words to explain this heartbreaking situation, Stingray shouldered his way into the den, followed by the slightly less defensive Sialuk.

She found she couldn’t speak, so Meerkat slowly stretched out her forelegs to present the lifeless puppy to them. Tears brimmed in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Even though she planned to ask the question, Meerkat already knew the answer.

He’s gone, she whispered to the room, isn’t he?

The other questions could wait a few moments. She wanted the final word on her son’s fate first. Then Meerkat would christen him and ask his father to find him a resting place. As soon as she could leave the ulaq, they could fashion him a cairn like Sobo’s and sing their lament. They would grieve the brighter future that had been snatched away from them.

As that thought threatened to crush her, Meerkat suddenly sucked in an audible breath. The ulaq fell deathly silent for a beat, followed by a loud sob tearing its way out of her. Quite likely everyone present in the den thought it an acute display of grief.

It was… and it wasn’t! She gave another small cry and tugged her son back against her chest. A smile broke through the sudden onslaught of tears as she felt a deeply unfamiliar and wholly unmistakable sensation: living pups moving in her womb as if to reassure their mother, I’m here, I’m here! In fact, they kicked so strongly that everyone in the den might see the press of a tiny paw through the pale skin of her belly!

I’d like to give Njord a chance to post next, then we can post in rounds; I’ll start another once everyone has posted.

If its okay with you all I’d like to say that Njord was present at the den site already :)

Meerkat cried out to the pack for help. Their small child, who was too tiny for this world, was cradled in his wife’s arms. Njord felt like flotsam – shattered debris adrift on the tide – as he wrestled with the morbid reality that their baby was gone. A chill, colder than the ocean in winter, washed over the man who sat vigilantly at Meerkat’s side.

Alaric arrived and then Elentari. Njord didn’t know what to feel, so he suffered quietly as the absence of outward emotion distinctly contrasted his wife’s visceral sobs. Stingray came next and Njord found himself resting a paw on his son’s shoulder – eerily reminiscent of when Stingray had been his father’s anchor after the bear attack.

Sialuk’s sympathetic voice seemed to answer what the husband and wife both knew in their hearts.

He’s gone, isn’t he? Meekat’s punctuation made Njord’s stomach sink. His blue eyes turned to her, fixated on the dampness at her temples, and he wondered what broke him more – the loss of their little one, or watching his wife grieve anew.

The muscle of his shoulder flexed, masseter jumping as Njord clenched his jaw in silent anger.

Then, the tide turned quickly when Meerkat gasped a sound of surprise and Njord could spy more babes, alive and well, moving in her belly.

He looked to Sialuk and Alaric quickly, desperately. Would their other children be well? Was Meerkat healthy?

One glance and the male knew. The little one was gone for this world. He had just been too small for his body to handle the new world. He could have not been able to draw breath, or his insides may not have been fully formed. It could have been anything, but what killed the storyteller healer was the sadness on the ladies face and the stoic desperation and grief that clung to the sea man like kelp.

The gasp startled him and he studied her sides. Counting her breaths and the kicks. They didn't seem to be in any type of danger, but he spoke softly. 

Counting their kicks, they don't seem distressed. Sialuk, may I ask you to check her pulse.

Meerkat needed to stay calm, or well he knew Sialuk knew what could happen. He looked to the woman in apology realizing he had spoken quickly and she knew as much as he did if not more. He briefly felt like perhaps he should leave, but it was said now. And he couldn't take it back.

As a medic who was still expanding her knowledge, it was plainly visible to the Archer and everyone else, what the cold truth was.

The newborn was too tiny. Too early. Too frail. A precious life cut tragically short. There was nothing she could say that had already been said. That everyone else already knew. While Sialuk and Stingray were inside with Meerkat and Njord, she would only linger outside. The dark lines of her head turned down, in a solemn bow.

But, where there was dark, there was light. Her ears pricked at Meerkat's cry. She still carried living children! Elentari was not on as deep of a personal level with Meerkat and her family as Sialuk was. Or even Alaric. So, she took a more backseat approach. To her fellow, more experienced healers, she said "Is there anything you need me to retrieve?"

Sialuk gave Meerkat a solemn, sad nod. His life had slipped away so quickly, and she did not think it a good sign.

And yet—the medicine woman moved her nose quickly to Meerkat's belly, just in time to feel another round of kicks press against her own wet nose. The small boy who had perished was not the only one that Meerkat carried, and the others appeared to be alive and well.

Elentari, bring fur of rabbit from my ulaq, she instructed. They could make him comfortable in his final resting place.

She did not know what Alaric spoke of, and she looked at him with a question upon her face.

Alaric pressed a paw to his chest. Her heartbeat. If it's too fast it can cause distress. Must calm down.

He had been planning on slipping quietly away, but Sialuk caught him before he could. A furrow in his brow.

He wouldn't have known of heartbeats if he hadn't met a shaman on one of his travels who shared womens secrets with him. So he could assist her as midwife. She had been hard to leave behind. But she had told him.

  you don't go i will curse you. You are needed elsewhere.

He hadn't known what she meant still didn't honestly.

For several moments, Meerkat didn’t move or say anything. She registered Alaric’s hopeful comment and caught the exchange between Sialuk and the woman she didn’t know, whose name turned out to be Elentari. Alaric said something about heartbeats and, finally, she tore her gaze away from her own belly to look up at her small audience.

I’m calm, she reassured.

But the talk of vitals returned Meerkat’s attention to her silent son. She intuited that Sialuk had sent Elentari to fetch the rabbit skin as a wrap for her baby boy. The idea brought Meerkat a great deal of comfort.

It would mean a lot to me if you would help Njord choose a spot and bury him, Meerkat said solemnly to Sialuk. Ray, will you stay here with me? she asked, knowing she wasn’t strong enough for this part. Alaric, would you mind sticking close as well, in case I need help?

With these tasks delegated, there was only one thing left to do. Despite the reassurance of life stirring in her belly, Meerkat closed her eyes against a fresh flood of tears as she wrapped her legs around the dead child and placed her cheek against the crown of his tiny head. She simply held him like that for a moment.

I love you, little Narwhal, she whispered, the name simply coming to her, then kissed his head. Please, take him, she said in the next breath, looking to Njord and Sialuk, fully trusting they would find a nice place to lay him to rest.

This will be my last post. Please feel free to continue this or wrap it, whatever works best for all of you!

She nodded at Sialuk's request. The Archer did not linger or waste time. Between those who remained, they seemed to have things under control. Backing away, she turned and darted in the direction in which she would find Sialuk's ulaq. 

A soft wrapping of downy rabbit fur was the perfect nest in which to cradle little Narwhal. Kept warm, safe and secure as he was sent of on his journey to the heavens. She selected a pelt that was suited perfectly to his tiny size. Even this item, she carried back to Meerkat's den, delicately.

She woofed gently to announce her return. And wait to pass the rabbit skin to Sialuk, unwilling to taint it's pristine condition by letting it touch the soil.

last from me.
Sialuk was grateful for Elentari's swiftness in retrieving the small, soft fur. Gingerly, the starwoman took it from the other medic, placing it down so that she could move Narwhal to his final soft place of rest. She would follow Njord wherever he wished to bury his son, and Sialuk would give a small blessing to the boy as well, sending him on his journey to the dancing lights with love and compassion.

Atkan Aleut
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last from me. <3

Alaric gave a soft nod to Meerkat and then he settled to his haunches outside her den mouth. He would not intrude upon the wolves in their moment of grief, but be just a call away. Should they need him. How sad it was today. These things happened, but it never made them any less harder.

Last as well.

For a few moments longer, she remained hovering outside the den. Her heart ached. Hurting for Meerkat and Njord's loss. But swelling with hope for the young lives they would soon welcome. 

Precious little Narwhal would be sent back up, to rejoin the stars. Wrapped in furs as soft as he was, warmed by the gentle glow of star light. "May he shine brightly..." She whispered, for any who may hear. Elentari would remain well into the night, until she saw the twinkle of a newborn star light the sky.

Njord watched in silent fixation as their team of healers inspected and assessed his wife. His one good ear pressed forward and listened to their words and the subtext of their tones. Yet, it seemed Meerkat was in good health… and the father relaxed only marginally at this news.

At his wife’s direction, their wee Narwhal was swaddled in pristine fur. The man’s eyes became glassy with emotion and his nose pressed softly at his partner’s temple in quiet solidarity.

A wave of emotion passed through him as the last glimpse of their baby’s face disappeared behind his wrapping… and Njord, despite all his strength and endurance, could not help but suck in a sob. The knife of mortality cut his constitution.

He leaned on Meerkat, her presence grounding him. “We will find him a good place, mo chride,” he promised her.

Then, out of instinct or memory, Njord began to keen a mournful dirge as he walked beside Sialuk. Its tune was thin and ribboned like smoke… and it mirrored the sadness in the hearts of both father and mother.

Oh what sorrow,
And my little child,
What will I do?
You have gone from me,
Oh my sorrow,
I’ve been left alone after a year,
If only had you healthy here now
Alas, Alas, Ah, without you…
Alas, today…

Njord knew he did not want to bury Narwhal far from their home and their hearts. He found a small and peaceful glen adjacent to their ulaq, and dug a small grave for their son.