Northstar Vale I wake up in the night to watch you breathe.

Labor starts on the night of the 13th, with most of the litter born on the 14th near midnight. Please let kids post first, then its a free for all!

It started late in the afternoon, while the birds were singing their usual sundown chorus.

She hadn't managed to sleep properly in the past few days or eat anything, as her appetite vanished entirely. When @Akavir brought her food she'd try to eat it, but it would inevitably turn her stomach - or go through her rapidly, which was the reason Ibis lingered outside the safety of her den the moment things began to change. She hastily covered the mess of diarrhea with a layer of loose soil and waddled towards the den mouth — feeling a rush of something warm leaking down her inner thigh, which prompted panic.

Then came the first low, throbbing wave of pain. It was unlike any feeling she'd experienced before; coming in like a rolling tide, lingering for a moment, and then ebbing out again. She winced and tried to breathe deeply, hoping that she could make herself relax, but... It came again minutes later, a fierce burn. Sitting did nothing to remedy the feeling so, Ibis began to pace. She was so focused on the feeling that she didn't think to call for help.

The contractions picked up in frequency over the course of the next few hours, pulsing through her. One of the babies kicked, another squirmed, as if they were fighting inside of her for freedom; finally, as the air began to cool and the sun had started to set, Ibis felt another shift. She tucked her shoulders in to the den mouth and dragged her fat belly inside, barely managing to turn around before something warm and heavy rolled out of her and hit the dirt — instinct took over from there. She grabbed for the lump, drawing it close to pierce the sack and clean away the mess. (Borras.)

Before she could finish, the second began to shift inside of her, and Ibis stopped everything. She braced against the earth, pushed her shoulder against one of the den walls - thinking, should have made this bigger - and grit her teeth, swallowing a shout as the next child came along, but only halfway. Something felt different about this one. After attempting to push for about ten minutes, Ibis had to pause and breathe, and felt her abdominal muscles begin to spasm. She turned within the den, tried to angle herself around her gut and look at her rear end where the puppy was stuck, but couldn't do much. As a second wave of sharp pains rolled through her lower back, she forced herself to push, push, push, even though she felt like she was being ripped in half.

The second babe hit the dirt, same as the first. She could barely make out the shape of it against the den floor, but as she moved to clean its face, her paws slipped against the mess turning the safe little den slick and muddy; had there been more light within the space, Ibis would've been stunned by the deepening crimson tone around her. As she worried over the child she noticed how large it seemed; this, and the first-born, were immense. Neither was making any noise — they did not squawk for air, they did not call out for milk, they merely sat there - like warm stones - and Ibis knew, somehow, that they were gone. (Taku.)

After these two arrived, the rest came swiftly. It was as if a flood gate was opened and in quick succession, two more babes slid from Ibis. She was exhausted. Her entire body screamed at her. She felt wave after wave, rising up to turn around and try to settle again, agitated and unable to find a position that would lessen her struggle. The next set arrived promptly: a tawny girl (@Arielle) that was freed from her sack and pulled greedily to Ibis' breast, and then her silver-clad sister (@Lilitu); both of them were so very alive, practically punching their way free while Ibis was tending to them.

She licked their faces, warmed them within the crutch of her limbs, pressing them close enough to feel their furious little heartbeats.

The last to be born was a tiny thing, and his arrival was more relaxed than the others. Ibis was too worn out to shift around by this point, and did not stand, did not even move to gather this final child close as he was delivered. She felt him moving against the dirt. (Oliver.)

The queen lethargically looked to the wetness between her legs and saw him there, only to breathe a heavy sigh and lay back down, holding her two daughters close instead. This final babe might have had a chance but he looked so tiny - and she was so very, very tired - that it just wasn't worth it, at least not to Ibis' instinct-driven brain in those last fleeting moments. Soon the child would stop struggling - Ibis thought - and when its feeble attempts faded, as it suffocated there by the far wall, a calm fell upon Ibis and her little ones.

Things began to shift around her, which wasn't necessarily alarming at first; it wasn't until she she felt the wall of warmth in front of her disappear that she really realized things were suddenly different. She had been packed tightly and contently in her dark, warm world, ad now she felt strangely exposed. And before she could try and adjust to this change, an invisible force was pulling her forward. She had no way of stopping herself from going with this strange force, nor did she really try; she just let herself be moved and eventually dropped onto a surface that had neither the softness nor the warmth that she was accustomed to. 

She wriggled against the fleshy walls as they were pulled from around her, and she issued a tiny squeak. The sound soon died off as something warm cleaned her and pulled her yet again. So much had changed already, and she might have weakly protested this change had she not been abruptly distracted by the scent of something sweet. She somehow knew whatever smelled so lovely would also offer her the contentment that had been stolen from her just moments ago. Arielle rooted around, her velvety, pink nose brushing against her mother's belly with purpose. And when she finally found what she was searching for, she latched on and drank in the rich, warm liquid. She drank until her belly was full. And then she moved her nose through something soft, the smell filling her with the knowledge that she was safe.

She burrowed deeper into the softness, stopping only when she fell into a peaceful slumber, her tiny paw held against her mother's side as if she was hugging her and her face buried in the soft fur there.

From the moment she exited her sac, Lilitu was loud.

Her mother had it easy with Arielle, who slipped into the world with naught but a squeak before finding the teat, nursing, and settling into comfortable silence. But once the second daughter's tiny head popped into the atmosphere, she was wailing: a tiny banshee.

Whine, whine, whine (would you like some cheese with that?) until she, too, found (probably with some help) a nipple. She clamped on with ferocity and began to suckle; only then, when the milk hit her mouth, did she start to shut up. Even afterwards, when her little stomach was full, she still whimpered. Fretted. Kicked and kneaded in idle fashion against her mother until falling into a fitful sleep.

A chatterbox from the get-go. Sorry, Mom.

Making a few assumptions here, prod me if anything needs changed!

As Reneian's little Queen laboured, Viinturuth did his best to support the expectant father - his brother. For all his sudden and conflicted feelings that revolved around Ibis, all the frustration and uncertainty, he did his best to place @Akavir at the peak of his priorities. He was family, after all, just as the brood born of Ibis' womb would be.

Viinturuth did not wish that Akavir's children were his own, but he was sour at a missed opportunity to court his mate. Mate. The word was so solid, so final, and roused such venom within him that he wasn't really sure who he was.

Burgundy eyes lingered quietly on his raven sibling, the yin to his yang - the part of him he'd been missing for far too long. To pursue Ibis would be to splinter his brother's new family. Was the very slim chance of gaining Ibis' affection really worth losing Akavir over?

Of course not.

Yet why couldn't he stop fucking thinking about her?

Viin swallowed the sour taste in his mouth, and cupped his pallid ears forward at the distinct sound of a newborn's cry. His gaze shifted to the mouth of the whelping hollow before attention focused on his dark littermate. "You hear that?" Viinturuth said, voice hushed at the distinct sound of a newborn's cry, and offered an enthusiastic swish of his alabaster tail.

Akavir paced. The grass and foliage in his path long since trampled. Ibis had become reclusive in the ending days of her pregnancy, and even crankier in moments. The dutiful husband had tended to her as best he could—a grouse for any hunger that might come to her, whispered words of comfort.

When she had retreated to the den, he had remained close. The dark wolf had never witnessed Durnehviir during these moments, but he knew instinctually enough that it was time. Casual small talk had been given to Viinturuth, but his champagne eyes flitted to the entrance, his steps pausing every so often as he strained for any knowledge of what occurred in the depths of Ibis’ nest.

When Viinturuth spoke, Akavir grunted in response. There were shuffles—the fresh scent of blood, and a tang of something more in the air—promising, though only later would he learn that death had come to three of their brood.

Resting his muzzle against the edge of the den wall, he withheld a complacent whine, his eyes closing and a frustrated sigh escaping him. He then took a tentative step closer—alert, prepared for Ibis’ greeting of his presence given in a flash of fangs or a relieved sigh.

Once the ordeal was over, all that Ibis wanted was to sleep. Her body was still amped up on adrenaline and whatever-else, Java doesn't know very much about this topic and really, who cares. Ibis was tired. Her body was practically humming; it felt like she was aware of every nerve across the network of her flesh, every tug of tangled fur, every nip of gums upon her teats, and an overabundance of withering exhaustion. She ached in places she did not know the names of, she was dizzy, claustrophobic, and shrouded in darkness, unable to focus long enough to do anything of benefit for her children. She knew one was tucked against her side and feeding, and the other crowed mercilessly in the dark, crying out, as if the dissonant song of such young lungs would return prescience to Ibis long enough for her instincts to kick in again.

She was so, so tired. Shapes moved outside of the den. She shifted her body, absently nudging the tiny boy's empty shell against the far wall with her hip - oops. Ibis shuffled and tried to keep her living children close, warm, unhindered... Afraid to leave them for even a second. They were her's! Ibis had never had anything that was entirely her own except her blood family, and they were gone, scattered like dandelion seeds to the wind - and she would not let the same thing happen to her brand new daughters. Her family, her everything. But she also knew that someone was outside of the den and waiting for word from her. Some sort of sign that things were alright.

The queen rested a few moments there, tucked awkwardly among those she'd born and those she'd lost, and then poked her nose out from the den mouth; she saw two shapes, and her eyes were drawn first to the paler of the pair, recognizing Viinturuth and feeling the flutter of her heart; she felt breathless for a moment, which she attributed to the many hours of struggle, and quickly looked for Akavir. When she saw him she sighed and let her eyes close for a moment. Her daughters squirmed by her chest and belly, tucked behind her where they could be safe.

There were... so many, Ibis struggled to explain. Her tongue felt dry like sun-baked grass, and she swallowed thickly. But.. two, two little girls. She had named them in her head as they'd arrived, and now tried to think back on each of the little lives as she recited them. A dark one, browns and reds, Arielle, she sleeps. Her sister is grey, I think, its so dark in here. She is the loud one, the one that sings. Lilitu. With that Ibis fell quiet, breathing steadily but with a clear drop in her energy that could have hinted at a deeper problem. She felt as if she were trying to speak through a fog at non-corporeal shapes and could not look at Akavir thereafter.