He had awakened as she began to pace – his fiery eyes watched her with tired concern before understanding soon dawned upon him. A gentle whine elicited from his muzzle as he made to move forward and soothe her, yet given instinct and the memory of his ex-mate’s birthing process, he knew his touch would be unappreciated for the moment. He shifted out of the den, his paws slicking back with the wet dirt that clung to him from the dew. He settled just outside the den entrance – his figure rigid as he remained on guard at the entrance, though both ears slid back at the soft sounds that came from within.


His heart clenched with each soft whimper Borlla released, his limbs tensing as he refrained from rushing back to the confines of the den to reassure himself the safety of his mate. She was young, and this was her first litter – these two things caused him only worry, and the fear he felt flooded the pheromones that released to the air. He did not call the news to the pack – not yet. For now, he simply contained himself to a form of patience and awaited for the arrival of what he hoped would be a healthy litter, and a tired but proud mother.


Time passed and the sun rose higher in the morning. Soon, the scents that came from the den shifted – the whimpering of his mate’s pain shifted away as the tiny cries of newborns would fill his ears and senses. He straightened then, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. He paused a moment, wondering if Borlla would chase him from the den and her young. Boldly, the regal took a step forward, reaching in to the den first with his face, his gaze seeking out her lovely form.


His fiery eyes fell upon her – the contentment that seemed present upon her features stirred his heart and relief flooded him. Lowering himself, his eyes seeking out his children, they fell upon the two most beautiful creatures of the world – the stark ivory of a baby boy, and the tawny softness of a girl. First glance and all seemed normal to him, his emotions elevated, yet as he drank in the sight, his gaze fell to the missing limb of his son, and he stiffened suddenly. “Is he..” The words failed to release – he had never seen such a thing before, and fear once more enveloped him as he searched for reassurance from his mate.

She looked to him at his question – was that protectiveness in her eyes? At him? Her words were soothing, though the tone held the perfectly honed female version of ’just drop it’ and the ivory male allowed the subject to drift, though it stayed close to his heart. The boy would be less capable, but not incompetent. The pack would teach him well, but it was likely he would always have need of the pack.. and even less likely that he would be able to drift away, claim a mate of his own and create his own lineage. It mattered little, he supposed, and such times were long off.. for now, his eyes could do no more than take in the perfection both of his children offered, and taking a step closer, Phineas allowed his muzzle to lower ever so much to inspect them closer, uncertain if Borlla would allow it.


Deciding not to push new motherly instincts, the Leader moved to rest beside her, his figure shifting to curl at her backside and wrap protectively around her frame. Gingerly, he went to groom her back and nape quietly, his eyes every so often drifting to the small forms that would emit the tiniest of whimpers. “What shall we name them?” They had discussed names briefly, but had never truly settled on anything, given they were uncertain of number and genders. His orange gaze regarded her quietly, noting she must have been exhausted and suddenly regretting not going on a hunt for her during the birthing – not that it was likely he would have been able to stray very far from her, nor that his focus would be upon a capture.

His eyes skimmed over her worriedly – the tired laugh, the fatigue that shone from her bright tangerine eyes. He had no comparison to what a she-wolf went through when giving birth, and while he had always been kicked out of the den during the process, Borlla reacted almost the same as Desdemona had not so very long ago – spare the love that also seemed to shine in her eyes as she gazed down to her children, the fondness in her voice so much more real to him than Demi’s ever had been, especially when she named their children.


His eyes traveled down to the two youths – one almost perfectly white, albeit one missing limb, and the other snuggled against him, her pelt a stunning array of golds already. He couldn’t have asked for more from her, and distinctly his mind drifted back to the fateful night they had copulated.. to the random and desperate decision both had made to fulfill one another’s lives. He had yet to truly court her, and as his fiery gaze swept over her, studying the creamy contours of her beautiful fur, his muzzle lowered to preen gently at her fur. “I love you,” he whispered, the words surreal to him, and yet longing. He had never spoken them before, and despite the fact they had much more to learn about one another, he had never felt more right than he did now. “Kyros and Hypatia,” he reiterated, feeling a small smile creep to his lips at the names. He had favored them as well during their discussions, and his consent was spoken only through the contentment within his eyes as he stared once more upon them.

He felt her soft warmth press back against him, the words slipping from her muzzle far more naturally than he would have envisioned. Exhaustion rolled off her in waves, and yet she clung to a wakeful state, if only seemingly to keep him company.. or perhaps to soak up the joy of what she had brought in to this world. He remained quiet then, his teeth preening at the fur at the back of her nape, his silence hopefully encouraging her to allow sleep to come. He doubted sleep would come to him for a long time, and yet he also refused to move from this very spot, knowing the others of the pack could take care of what matters lay beyond his family den.


The gentle sighs and suckles that interrupted the darkened area only further reiterated that he was now father to two – the feeling of elation was akin to what he had felt when Demi had given birth, though this time, as his eyes trailed over the pale figure of the boy and the tawny of the girl, he knew without a lingering doubt they belonged to him. All at once emotion washed over him – the curiosity of what color eyes they would have when older, of how they would be. Would Kyros be inhibited by his missing appendage? The aching thought that the boy might not even survive refused to creep up to the male’s mind, and so he instead dwelled upon the future ambitions both of his children might have, their goals. What their dreams could be.


Despite being unable to sleep, Phineas shifted his weight, placing his muzzle upon Borlla’s shoulder where his nose would be partially buried to the fur at her nape. The future of Magnolia Glen had arrived, and so started the day where Phineas knew he would never be able to breathe with ease again, for his worries were now solely placed upon the two lives that nursed and cuddled at his mate’s side.

He felt her shift beneath him and unknowingly he lifted the weight of his muzzle slightly to allow her to adjust herself. His eyes shifted to study her features, wondering what it was that seemed to ail her dreams as a soft groan emitted from her pretty jaws. Whether it was fatigue or distress, he couldn’t be sure, and the fiery-eyed male was not going to wake her. Despite everything she had been through in the day, he had been surprised at how long it took for her to fall asleep.


She seemed to settle once more, and again Phineas placed his muzzle to her side, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed in a more quiet slumber. The softest mewls of noise would interrupt the den every so often, and while not used to such things, the Leader found the sound soothing.


While he had not thought it possible for sleep to find him, within the dark confines of the newly established family den, Phineas felt his lids flutter shut slowly. The sound of the night was welcome to him – the soft hoot of an owl heard just to the outside seemed almost to echo in his mind as it began to lull itself to sleep. Every so often the shift of one of the newborns would stir him to a more wakeful state, but once assured that both of his cubs and mate were fine, Phineas was not long before he would drift off once more.