Drooping Willows [m] blood was our inheritance

TW- loss of a child?

It took him a while to answer her plea, and she lay there in the silence, broken only by the red child's cries. Eskil leaned forward and inspected the puppies, and Asha let him, too tired to do otherwise. Then the large man spoke, informing her that she didn't have milk to feed them with. Which, of course, she already knew - deep down. But somehow, hearing it out loud made it worse - made her feel like there was something intrinsically wrong with her. Plus the spoken word also brought about panic as the new mother began to run through all the what if's that might occur because of the fact. Her breathing picked up, and black spots danced around the edges of her vision. Her mouth dried out further than it already was - if that was even possible. And yet, all she could think to respond with was a dry, raspy, "Oh."

More tears built at the corners of her eyes when she looked back down at the puppies, and she leaned over to nose the gray boy with her muzzle. His sister had given up on the wailing for food and had instead broken down into soft, pitiful whimpers. But the gray puppy never made a noise to begin with, and he was stiff and cold to the touch, his little pink paw pads like ice under Asha's nose.

Dead.

She'd seen it before, caused it many times. But it was nigh on impossible to comprehend in this situation. The mother took him in her jaws as gingerly as she could manage, and just as gently laid him down between her forepaws. Bitter smell invaded her nose, and nausea built up in her empty stomach as she rasped her parched, sandpaper tongue over the soft, gray fur in an attempt to get him to move. At first, she was careful and sweet with her touch, but as she went on, the licks became more rough and desperate, broken apart by sobs as she struggled to contain her emotions.

Eventually, the sobs melted into gags and she turned her head to the side, stringy bile making its way up her throat and out her mouth and nose. She choked on it for a few moments, the harsh movements aggravating the pain in her lower half, which was but a simple annoyance in comparison to the overwhelming, life-shattering despair that was the fact that she had her dead son laying in front of her.

Asha backed away from the dead body, the living child at her side squealing once again to protest the movement. But the silver wolf could hardly worry about that at the moment - she was entirely overwhelmed with pain, and hunger, and the stench of death, and fear. If possible, the stench of terror overrode the musk of death that shrouded the birthing den; the young mother was practically vibrating with it. Her face was crumpled in despair, her tail tucked and her body crouched at an awkward angle at the back of the den. Her ice-colored eyes tore themselves away from her baby's body and looked up at Eskil pleadingly, her throat too wrecked to speak.

What do I do?

Eskil watched the scene unravel before him, painfully aware how entirely, utterly useless he was in this situation. He held every muscle in his body still, not sure what to do as Asha began to panic. If she were any other wolf he would grab onto her, allow her some sort of contact to anchor to. But for her it seemed like that would only make things worse. Something seemed to be slowly dawning on her as he helplessly watched more tears roll down her silver cheeks. His own eyes were stinging but he wouldn't allow himself the indulgence. It broke his heart as he watched her try to rouse the still pup, her motions getting more desperate and frantic by the moment. He felt like he had failed her somehow, if he hadn't left her she wouldn't have to be going through any of this. She didn't deserve it. All because of that damned fucking Asurn there was one cub dead and another soon to follow if they didn't do something.

His stomach twisted as she retched, the scent of death, vomit, blood and afterbirth almost overwhelming in the small space. He tried to think of something else, focus on other things, but there was not a single pleasant thing in this place to distract himself with. He choked down his discomfort, he had to be stronger than that, for Asha. Who had suddenly gotten up, shrinking into the back of the den and leaving both cubs, living and dead, laying on the ground between them. This wasn't right. He inhaled sharply, tried to stand up only to forget the low ceiling and hit his head, crumbs of dirt raining down on him. She was staring at him, pale eyes fixed on him expectantly. 

Truly the man had no more answers than she did, but only the blessing of a slightly clearer head. He had to take charge here. "Asha... You... You- You can't do this alone." Eskil managed to blurt out. Whatever intentions Asha had before this of taking care of this litter by herself, that had all gone out the window. "We have to take them somewhere." He said, his mind desperately trying to work through the stench and death and madness.

Something instinctual inside her propelled her forward when he mentioned taking the pups somewhere else. She flashed over to the puppies, placing her entire body over them. An ugly, protective snarl formed on her lips at the thought of him touching either pup - living or dead. "No," she growled, her voice wrecked and gravelly, thick with emotion. But, of course, it was her frazzled brain working on pure instinct that drew the violent reaction from the woman. If she'd been thinking clearly, then she would have never done such a thing to her friend. However, there was no possible way to think clearly when you were half-starved, hormone-fueled, in pain, and grieving. At least, there wasn't a way to think clearly when you were simply reacting to something, for it only took a moment for her to realize that he was right.

Defeated, her body sagged, but she still remained crouched over the puppies, her eyes darting back and forth as she tried desperately to think of a solution to her problem. She looked at the stiff, colorless body of her son and then at the fiery, wriggling body of her daughter, then squeezed her eyes shut against the pain her decision was about to bring her. It was conflicting - possibly the hardest decision she'd ever made in her entire life - and yet, she knew it was the only thing that she could do in this situation.

The mother bent down and took the body of her son in her mouth, then placed it on the ground behind her. She took a step back to uncover the reddish child, then gave her a few, soft licks before looking up at Eskil, tears blurring her vision. "Will you take her?" she whispered, her breathing stuttering and catching on a sob at the pain the question caused her. "Please? Th-the stranger said that y-your leader has a litter..." Perhaps the alpha would take pity on the starving child; nurse her until she could eat solid food.

Eskil froze again at her firm disagreement. He didn't want to fight with her, but to leave the child out here would be to condemn her to death, too. He knew it was all so sudden for Asha, she'd given birth not long ago and now she would lose not one child, but two. But this one had a chance to live. If it took her time, he could wait, but a newborn did not have very much time to work with. He stood for a moment, wondering if she would chase him out. But something in her seemed to break, that wild maternal fire in her eyes giving way as she relented. Eskil felt terrible, like he was some villain taking away her only child.

He frowned, his shoulders slumping as Asha moved the boy out of the way, revealing the ruddy girl. He looked at Asha, trying to meet her pale eyes in the darkness of the den. "I can try," He said softly. It was a lot to ask of a leader, but faced with a pup in need he did not have much of a choice. Similarly, he expected Enoki would reach the same conclusion. "Enoki, she just had her cubs. She is kind and fair. I think she might take her." He said with a nod. He opened his mouth, hesitating before the next words slipped through. "Will you not come with?"

Asha nodded slowly as he spoke of Enoki's kindness; her fairness. Perhaps if the woman had a heart at all, she would take pity on the squalling girl on the ground between them. The silver wolf refused to raise her gaze from the floor of the den, not wishing to make eye contact with Eskil as he spoke. She wasn't angry at him, because it was hardly his fault, and found herself wishing that she'd just stayed with him during mating season instead. No - in fact, she wished she'd never come to this place at all. She should have just stayed with her battalion of a pack, let them run her into an early grave. Having no emotions at all was far better than experiencing this pain.

Then the large wolf asked if she would come with them, and she shook her head. "No," she rasped, squeezing her eyes shut and bending down to touch her nose to her living child's back, but stopping just short of the russet fur. Instead, she pulled back and chanced a glance up at Eskil, her tearful bluish eyes meeting his evergreens for half a heartbeat before looking back down at her paws in shame. She was well aware of the fact that she was shaking, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. "I'm sorry." The two words were trembling and raw, aimed at all three other occupants of the den. Then, she looked up at Eskil again, gaze pleading. "Please don't tell anyone where she came from."

She turned around, tail tucked between her legs, and headed over to lay with her deceased pup, resting her chin on her paws and watching Eskil and her daughter through blurred vision. She didn't think she'd ever cried this much in her entire life, but her shoulders were shaking as she released a few miserable sobs, shutting her eyes tightly. "Her name is Elle," the young mother choked out, her voice quiet as she curled around her son. She wasn't sure where the name itself came from, but Elle just seemed to fit the fiery-furred girl, and Asha wanted her to have something given to her by her mother - even if it was just a one-syllable name.

The monochromatic wolf curled herself around the stiffened body of her pup, seeking comfort and solace in the cold fur.

Eskil's shoulders slumped a nearly imperceptible amount as Asha declined to come with him. It shouldn't have surprised him, whatever mix of shame festered inside of her would likely not allow it. He bit his tongue, keeping himself from arguing and forcing her to return to the Ridge with him. It almost felt like leaving her out here, alone -- or worse, if Eirian ever showed his face again -- to fend for herself was to write her a death sentence. She was skin and bones now, and though she would not have the burden of cubs to nurse he couldn't foresee her thriving out in no-wolfs land by herself. But as much as it pained him to do, she had made her decision and he would respect that. 

The thought of separating mother and child pained him, but if she would not come with there was no other choice. He watched sadly as Asha knelt down, her nose hovering just over the redheaded girl before she drew away. At her request he was still for a moment, before hesitantly nodding. It made him uncomfortable to have to tell even a little white lie to his leaders. Surely Enoki would want to know where he had picked up a cub, and why in the world he'd brought it back. But Asha needed this, and so he would have to find a way to be truthful without too revealing.

"Elle," He said softly with a soft dip of his head. It was a pretty name for a pretty little girl. "Don't worry," He said, voice low and thick with emotion, not sure which of the two he was addressing. "I'll take care of her." Eskil slowly padded towards Elle, reaching down to gently grasp the tiny wriggling body in his jaws. Picking her up, he looked at Asha one last time. He hoped this would not be the last he saw of her, broken and curled around a life ended before it had even begun.

Asha could see the way his shoulders slumped, and it sent a new wave of sorrow shooting through her at the thought of not only losing her two children, but also the man she loved, all on the same day. She longed to run up to him and beg him to take her with him, so that she could somehow adjust to pack life and become some sort of mundane, pack wolf.

But that type of life wasn't for her, and she didn't think it ever would be.

So, instead, she listened to Eskil's gentle tones as he spoke to herself and Elle, her breath stuttering on a choked sob when he told them it would be okay. It was nice to hear, but it absolutely would not be okay. For Elle, perhaps, but not for Asha. Maybe not even for Eskil, though something told her he would probably be alright. Maybe he even had some other woman waiting for him, and he could return to a normal life and never have to worry about the stray he'd bumped into during the winter.

He picked up her child and turned to leave, and Asha closed her eyes, unable to watch the two of them quite literally walk out of her life. Instead, she curled tighter around the body of her child, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper as she called out to them both, "I love you." Because Eskil had told her that her feelings were valid, and regardless of if he was accepting of it or not, she did love him. And Elle - she didn't think it was possible to feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest at the very absence of someone, but that was how it felt with Elle. She had only had a short time with her child, but she hoped the russet girl knew and understood, on some level, that she was loved.

 Even if her mother only got to say it once.

(This post was last modified: May 16, 2017, 03:35 AM by Asha.)