The time had finally come. The last long days of her pregnancy had been...uncomfortable, to say the least. Feeling like an awkward, bloated sea lion, just like the one she had taken down, Tzila struggled to find any source of comfort. Some deep-rooted gut instinct told her the children would be arriving any day now. Pulled by nothing more than primal instincts, she stuck close to her isolated den, never venturing far for long. Astaroth had been kind enough to place a cache nearby, so she could settle her ravenous appetite, keeping her and the unborn pups well fed. All throughout the majority of this pregnancy, the dark mother to be had been active, expending her energy. And not necessarily in the most practical of activities.
Over the course of the last week though, Tzila had finally used some common sense and spent her time resting. Today was no different, except her appetite was non-existent. She had been feeling more sore than usual, sharp, small cramps shooting through her belly. Alarmed, she would dash into her den just in case, but they always settled within the hour. This time, while soaking up the shade provided by the canopy of the mighty tree guarding her little home, when the pain sliced through her belly, it was different. Not burning or sharp, but deep and wrenching. Eyelids fluttering open in shock, she let out a pained gasp, gritting her teeth. She waited with baited breath for it to pass, trying to ride out the pain. When yet another, second spasm, even stronger than the first shot through her, she knew it was time.
Shakily rising to her paws, distinctly aware of a growing moisture between her legs, she hurried down to duck inside the den, retreating to the deepest chamber in the back. There was no need to call for Astaroth; she knew he would be hovering nearby, as he always had for the last few days. She had done her best to prepare, lining the ground with the softened, dried pelts of recently slain sea lions. A layer of soft grass beneath added extra cushioning and warmth for the fragile little lives that would soon be a part of her world. The only thing she didn't have was herbs, unsure if the pack had a healer in the ranks. Lying down onto her side, she fought her own battle with the contractions, trying to comprehend the pain she was experiencing for the very first time in her short life.
Many hours later into the night, when the pain became unbearable, she gave in to instinct and pushed, hard. Something slimy and wet slid out from between her legs and breathing heavily from exertion and apprehension, she reached down and pulled the pup close, biting through the sac and severing the cord. Her tongue laved over its form frantically, clearing it's airway, silver eyes wide. And yet.... She did not breathe. Did not move or make a sound. A delicate little girl, clad in the most beautiful of platinum's. Tzila whimpered brokenly, nudging the tiny body, desperate to will life into her daughter. A daughter who would never be...who Astaroth had hoped for. Fresh tears poured freely from her eyes, her throat choked with silent sobs. This....this was all her fault! There was little time for her to mourn any further before another violent contraction overtook her. Clenching her jaws tight, she bit back a pained cry as she pushed forth a second babe from her womb. This one, in contrast to the first, was much bigger. Trembling from the strain and the fear that gripped her heart at having lost one child, she swiftly pulled him close, repeating the same process she had with her daughter. As she licked him clean, she prayed to whatever gods or forces that may exist. Pleaded with them not to take another life from her. And, as salty tears akin to the oceanic water fell from her cheeks, her prayers were answered. A boy, alive and healthy, the sweet music of his new lungs filling her ears. She sobbed, looking at her dark son as she eased him close to her belly to feed. He was perfect, painted in beautiful blacks and silvers, with the faintest glint of rust. Drained, but happy she had recieved this single gift of life, Tzila laid her head down, while slumbers embrace began to beckon.
July 01, 2020, 05:06 PM
His sister was so small, she barely took up any space in the already roomy womb of their mother. The boy that would later be called Sotiris had no wishes, wants or regrets just yet, but he'd sure would've liked a sister whilst growing up. Luckily the island he would soon explore on much more stable legs was home to many more children, but he'll forever mourn what he could never had as well as what he could never be; a daughter for his father.
With scared and confused hiccups did he join the realm, blind and deaf, his movements restricted and his body controlled by the being he'd soon call mom. He felt her warm breath, but his own came with a sharp pain within his chest. His lungs had to get used to filling up with air and the lack of the moist, warm womb. He cried and cried, 'till he was placed at her tummy where he hungrily sought out a teat. This is where he'd settle down, drinking his fill and falling asleep soon after. Getting birthed was a tiring experience after all.
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