Ravensblood Forest yon lanmè nwa

the pains had first showed themselves a handful of days prior. an experienced mother, mireille had not seen cause for concern or mention. they abated and did not intensify.
but through last sundown and into the morning, they had grown harsher, fierce with a pain that was not familiar.
not wishing to draw attention to herself, the proud woman continued to say nothing, until at last her legs began to buckle. it was @Chacal she sought first. "yon bagay mal fwa sa a," the scarlet wolf murmured, slipping into the shadows of the cove to lie beyond the pirates' sight, for now.
they had no healer that she could see, and she certainly did not want the hard-faced young captain and his mucky crew gathering to leer.
she shut her eyes, breathing through another twinge.

He followed. He couldn't help it. Hex was drawn to a woman with child, and when Mireille wandered off, quietly, he accompanied.

It was a quiet cove in which she sought solitude. Hex looked upon her, the twin golden orbs of his gaze stark against the dark. Then he came forward.

Are the babies coming? he asked the woman, remaining at a distance. What can I do to help?

A dark woman, writhing;

birthing a trio of pups destined for malcontent.

In the days following the surrender, Chacal had been forced to stay very still, paranoid that any sudden movement might open the wound, and cause her to bleed out. With every day that passed, she wondered if she should simply let it happen- but the movement of life within her reminded her that the decision wouldn't only end her life, but theirs, too.

She was attuned to her sister's plight as well. They had both birthed before, and had seen many births aside from their own. Still, neither had access to their usual resources and support. The stress of being held captive had no doubt worsened their condition, but even still, when Mireille spoke, Chacal sensed that she was in worse shape than what she let on.

She carefully followed her sister, aware that they were being followed. When he spoke, he was met with a flash of teeth, regardless of the softness of his tone. She felt the scabbing skin pull tight at her throat, but uttered a rumbling growl regardless of the fact that it caused a small, dark gleam of blood to emerge, glistening like a ruby.

Even if Mireille had not expressed her concern, he would not have been welcomed.

She turned to her sister, knowing their shared tongue might be the only way they could communicate without the stranger catching on. She kissed her sister's forehead tenderly, and placed herself at Mireille's side, before casting another glare toward the male, hoping he would catch the hint, and move away.

seething emerald conveyed what tight mouth could not. dragonfire flaring of nostrils bid to muted snorts came next. chacal's blood-scent in the dark frenzied her with rage and fear.
contortions hurtled after; she clung to the shadow of her looming sister, breathing out and refusing to let these hapless pirates hear a single note of her pain.
"mwen te di pitit fi ou a kouri lè ti bebe yo vini," mireille murmured, avoiding any mention of chani's name.
she cried out then, as much to terrify the boy into action as to voice her own anguish, though her screams would echo through forest and cove.
@Séraphine, first child born elsewhere in generations, and mireille wept bitter tears over this, shaking as new pains demanded a higher level of volume.
small pale pup, placed to her breast.
chani must escape. she must get away.

A child born in the form of angelic dove, placed to her mother's breast in the wet and muck of a home that was not their own.

Squeaking, squealing, unaware.

Arriving to a world which for the time being was her own, Seraphine squirmed into the warmth of Mireille's fur. She was quick to settle, easy to fall into a calm state. It would be a few hours until she would first feed, and so for now she rested.

lè yo vini. chwazi moman sa a.
mireille had said this to her, and now her aunt lay wailing, crying out. it struck true fear to chani's heart; she scrambled backward, trying to think of what to do. how to accomplish what mireille had said while not feeling as if she was abandoning her family.
the pirates; the pirates. they needed to be here. she saw the man who had offered food on many occasions, taking a breath before she said in panic; "call for de ot'ers! any healin' you have, bring it!"

She tried to hush her sister’s cries, so she might not draw too much attention, only to realize when Chani sang out, calling for aid, that opportunity had come. She looked to her daughter with sad, tired eyes. Tears gathered, and fell when she locked eyes with Chani, and gave a faint nod.

In the wake of Séraphine’s birth, a new voice would raise and split through the moans and gasps of her sister as she whelped. She felt the pressure deep within her build, to ripple the muscles of her abdomen. She cried out, as her own labour began.

He was met with hostility, which he expected—though it came from the other woman who had followed. Hex backed down immediately, catching sight of her scarred throat, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood.

More blood would soon follow.

He had intended to stand upon the path between the main forest and the cove, protecting the mothers from lecherous sorts like @Crowell. But then the younger one came, with an anxious request for him—

Call for the others.

He felt as if he'd swallowed a bone, whole. He tried to speak, but the words would not come out. He did not trust the pirates, not around these women, newborn children. . .

But if that was what they wished, he would oblige.

Hex howled, voice hoarse and strangled, for @Meredith and the rest. Even before his cry had faded into the trees, he turned and prepared to offer help—while keeping a respectful distance from now two mothers in labor.

shadowposted, some edits

oops! shadowposted

Distant cries had the Captain slink through the woods until he came upon a grisly scene. Both the flanks of the red bitch and the darkling rippled eerily, and as a slimy, squalling thing emerged from the mass of bodies, he realised what was going on. 

For a long moment he stood unmoving at the edge of the gathering, chest tightening in something akin to fear. He remembered the crow's words, and felt woefully unprepared. They weren't his kids! But they were being born on his soil, and by proxy that made him some sort of estranged father figure, whether he liked it or not. "Don' let 'em die," he hissed in the direction of Hex as the man let loose a call for the others, and paced impatiently at the fringes.

His eyes sought Meredith. She was a woman. She would know what to do.

meredith had seen a lotta things—men gutted on decks, guts spilling like eels; storms that split the sky in two; her own blood soaked into sand she couldn’t name. but this? this weren’t nothin’ she’d ever trained for. weren’t in any sailor’s bible, neither.

her eyes were wide as moons, fixed on the squirming, wet thing that had just slithered into the world like a curse. another cry followed, sharp and high, and she flinched like she’d been struck.

fuck, she breathed, barely more than a whisper. fuckin’—fuck.

she crouched low, hovering over the laboring bitch like she might catch a blade at any moment. blood pooled, steam rose. gods, it stank. she didn’t know what part to touch, what part to leave. was it alive? was it supposed to be that color? her throat worked around nothing.

i’m just a fuckin’ girl, she muttered, desperate and trembling. i don’t know what i’m doin’.

but still, her paws moved—clumsy but tryin’. clearing slime from a nose. nosing it close to its dam. coaxin’. hopin’. prayin’, maybe, even if she didn’t know the words.

run, chani.
mireille registered little. pain wreathed through her, exacerbated by the chaos of her surroundings. fear rose in a gluttonous serpent, choking at her sense of self and space.
the obsidian vibrated with anger and sorrow, with anguish and a hateful boiling bellow that forced its way out of her lips and announced the birth of @Bastean.
it was unfair! it was unfair that these babes should not first taste sea air and be surrounded by the women of their family, by the generations that shaped sapphique — she would never allow them to forget who they were and from where they had come.