Lion Head Mesa 'iizala

in the unexplored part of akashingo, jawahir writhed in silence. the queen labored in her bedroom, no doubt attended by the others. 

but there would be no such aid for jawahir.

it was near lightless in the catacombs. they brought their first child into the world. but the newborn did not move. it was a disappointment. it was a relief. 

more agony. jawahir sweltered in the stony recesses. their throat compressed the whines and cries that wished badly to be uttered. another unmoving child. they pushed both bodies away and delivered a third. 

this time the child did move. jawahir hesitated before stripping the birth membranes from nose and mouth. a loud squall echoed through the tunnels. they shushed the babe and pulled the pup closer, eyes closing as the contractions began again.

when all had been said and done, jawahir panted weakly. two living children nestled beside their shrunken frame. and six dead had been shoved into the shadows. in time they rose and sought a crevice farther from those who would not rise again, a stitch of space in the very floor of the catacombs where the breathing children were tucked away from all eyes against jawahir's exhausted flank. one name swam to mind before the hebsut slept.

@Zakariya

first to draw breath outside the womb and first to receive his name, zakariya set a rather drab tone for the entry of jawahir's first litter into the world. the hebsut's pseudo-firstborn was little more than a scraggly scrap of damp ochre-and-ash fur, a muddle of color somewhere between newborn grey and the true nut-brown hue of his adult coat. his cries were weak and wavering. he struggled to feel warm, even tucked at jawahir's side. and in his own way, he grieved his new reality. already the young coywolf had begun to learn the first and most dreadful lesson of life.

to exist is to suffer.

only by dumb luck did tavina find jawahir's scent, faint and creeping into the catacombs.

the sesh passed the narrow winding where the fellahin had surely gone.

when she returned it was with a rabbit. she lay it in the darkness and turned away.

in her jawahir had an ally, however unspoken.

There was warmth and security for a nameless time, and when it ended it was a frantic, drastic shift in to the unknown. Warm and wet was replaced by cold and dry, with shadows persisting. The girl dropped beside her brother; tucked against a high-cut belly, where the inviting smell of food drew the newborn's attention. She did not latch at first - mewling, reaching with spread toes to touch mother then brother, letting out a kettle whistle laced with confusion.

in time they would go to grab tavina's prepared meal.

for now jawahir only wanted to find sleep. the snug recesses of the stone held them and their children in a protective grip.

nazli, the hebsut mumbled at last of their second.

jawahir curled around the nursing pair. slumber overwhelmed them and gratefully they submitted.