But I put it out of my mind Long enough to call it courage To live without a lifeline

She had known this was going to hurt, and truly she had started to prepare herself for the pain… however, when it started to roll through her, she had stolen away and curled up, doing her best to breathe. She gave herself the same advice that she had given others. She felt like she could hardly think, and she started to panic. He closed his eyes, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth as her claws scraped anxiously at the ground. She could do this. Her body would not have given her children if she couldn’t do this… or, if it would, then she didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Breathe. Breathe Ene, breathe.” She scolded herself lightly. She had been prepared, keeping the necessary herbs collected in the den that had been carefully selected to be her birthing den. She went for the sweet grass first. She could do this. She had helped deliver pups before… so delivering her own was surely going to be the same idea, even if it was incredibly difficult for her to concentrate, right? She couldn’t do this alone. She knew she couldn’t do this alone. She let out a short call and just hoped there was someone nearby, preferably @Aleister but honestly anyone’s presence would do right now. A part of her yearned for @Moonshadow because the woman had done this before, and more than once and she had been such a comforting presence before.

She just had to remember her training and try and block out the pain. It was pain with a purpose. It was her body’s way of bringing children into the world and she just needed to roll with it.

He was on the other side of the territory when she called. The Vuesain was out hunting for both of his pregnant females, attempting to catch both of them a hare. However, he was still working on the second one. But as her short call rang through the lands, he could hear the urgency in her voice, prompting him to abandon his task.

Sending out a short call in response signaling that he was on his way to her side. Gripping the one dead hare within his jaws, he tore off into the forest to where her birthing den was, hoping he wasn’t too late. Many emotions fired within in, but the only one Aleister focused on was the excitement. Aquene was delivering his children, the first of his and he couldn’t hide the grin that fell across his lips.

Arriving late, he gave a thankful nudge to Chan as he passed by. He approached the den entrance, his mismatched gaze falling on the ebony forms of Moon and Nash who were just outside of the birthing den. Dropping the hare off towards the side for later, he greeted the remaining Eastfalls with a tense smile. Crouching down upon his elbows, he kept himself outside of Aquene’s space in case she didn’t want him this close. “I’m here Aquene. I’m here,” he called out to her softly.

But I put it out of my mind Long enough to call it courage To live without a lifeline

When her call went out, more than one call reached her ears in turn. She became aware of the fact that some of the pack were amassing outside the den, perhaps eager to get a look at the brood she was bringing into the world or simply there for moral support. She felt comforted by Moon’s presence, though she did not invite the woman into the den. Truthfully, she wasn’t entirely sure if she would even invite Aleister in until after it was all said and done. That was a decision that she would have to make in the moment. She heard Nash and Chan as well, though Chan was in the form of a call back to her to let her know she wasn’t alone. The Eastfalls as a whole had been incredibly supportive and she couldn’t be more grateful.

Aleister arrived next and she let out a small chuff when he arrived. “Closer.” She pleaded softly. She decided in that moment she needed the comfort of his presence and she hoped dearly it wasn’t overstepping. With the plea came another soft whimper, the pain radiating through her as she bore down and brought their first child into the world, a little girl. She was quickly shifting along in order to move her closer to her belly so she could begin to suckle, nudging her softly and running her tongue over her a few times to improve circulation. She could cry in relief, but the pain started again and she knew she wasn’t done… not yet.

She bore down a second time, and this one came much faster than the first… but something was wrong. There was a lack of warmth or quivering mews like she expected… and then there was panic, and pain. She was repeating the motions with the little boy she had just delivered, trying to get his heart started. It took a few minutes before she reached the acceptance and the pain gutted her whole. He was a stillborn, carried carefully in her stomach only to never draw a breath of his own, and quickly this happy moment faded into despair. In her grief she nudged the pup closer to her stomach, as if begging him to spring to life and begin to suckle but alas, it was helpless.