Hearthwood River on the path unwinding

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Lachesis' answer was short, his attention clearly focused on the den behind him; No surprise there..! Orren simply nodded in understanding, lowering himself to the ground to wait quietly. Head resting on outstretched paws, the hare half forgotten by his side, the boy tried to embody patience, knowing that being antsy wouldn't speed up the process; He remembered as much from last year. The burly lad's experience with childbirth was very limited though, other than his sisters' last year, where he had been more concerned with his mother than anything else, the only one he'd been through was his own, which obviously he didn't remember. All he could do was watch and wait, trusting XIX to take care of Naia and everything that went down. Copper ears perked up and his head lifted when a voice sounded from the den, too weak for him to make out the words. The healer quickly answered and mumbled voices left the den, Orren lifting himself more, straining to hear; Is it over? The soft rumble of conversation continued, and he bit his lip, staying patiently in his spot, having no idea what was happening inside. He wouldn't understand it, didn't know anything about complications or the trouble of labor, all he knew was that mothers went into their dens, and after an ungodly amount of time, they came out with pups. But that didn't happen this time. Instead he heard the voices rising in volume, Lachesis' voice, shouting her name louder and louder; You can't! Now true fear gripped the young Baranski's heart and he scrambled to his feet, creeping closer to the den entrance. He came close enough to hear his name, spoken in an eerie, ghostly echo of the voice he knew so well. The weakness dripped from Naia's tongue, and while Orren was still trying to process her request – Tell Inali? Tell her what..? – he heard the medic's soft whisper of goodbye. Goodbye? NO, why goodbye?! Face twisted in horror, the prince backed away from the den, ears lying flat back against his skull. The stench of blood hung stark in his nose, wolves blood, her blood! No… No, no, NO! This wasn't what was supposed to happen, this was their last happiness, their hope for a future! "Naia!" He cried out desperately, but all he got in answer was XIX, leaving the den to face him, ghostly expression confirming everything beyond doubt; "No!" The scream was almost unintelligible, a roar of raw emotion. In reply he only got a demand, uttered in a voice full of grief, but still enough to bristle his hackles. He didn't want to find anyone, what did it matter anyway? All he wanted was to run, run as fast as he could without stopping, outrun this latest tragedy of his life, to someplace where they were still alive. As if the fickle gods feeble attempt to make up for their taking, Karina suddenly materialized, looking at him with such innocent, clouded eyes. He had no answer for her, the last scream had killed his voice. It didn't matter, already she was pushing past Lachesis, into the den. She was here, like he wanted. Orren still didn't understand why it mattered, what was the point when Naia was already dead? In this moment he cared nothing for the pups or their survival, the little monsters who had taken her life away. He spun on his heels and ran. - EXIT - Word count: 573 ”Speech" Thoughts

FurLined @DA

PLOT WITH ME!

@Karina UGH SO MAD I didn't even realize that it was my turn to respond I am so so so sorry!!
Please feel free to wrap up with your next post so we can archive this omg <33

He did not know what to think, what to say. Naia, his friend and the mother of his friend, was gone. There was nothing that could bring her back. No amount of herbs or crying; no begging or pleading; nothing. She was gone, off to roam the never-ending meadows with Maksim at her side. With blood staining his paws shock began to settle in, causing his limbs to quiver as he waited for someone to come and wake him from this awful nightmare. He had returned to the confinement of the den, his tongue pressing repeatedly against the warm bodies of his children until Karina arrived. He did not protest as she nudged him to the side, her greyscale body curling around the frail, pale bodies of his children. They were safe now — they would survive, they had to.

The ghost shuffled closer to his former apprentice, his cheeks stained with salty tears as he ignored how stuffy the den was beginning to feel. “W-will you…” his voice shaking as he held her icy gaze, “… will you take care of them? Please?” He was begging, something that Lachesis seldom did. It was necessary; he couldn’t allow his children to die. XIX knew that he was asking a lot of the Baranski — she was expecting her own child(ren) — but he did not have any other choice. Kisla had not arrived and he did not want to shuffle his twins from wolf to wolf. They would be comfortable growing alongside Karina’s litter; they would be happy. And that’s all he wanted for them.

His gaze fell to his friend, her body growing cold in the spacious den they had created together. I’m sorry, Naia… He thought glumly to himself, tears threatening to spill once more. I’ll take care of them, I promise. XIX could not let his friend down; he would ensure they had the best lives possible. For Naia.

In the heat of the moment Nineteen had hardly noticed the departure of the river prince. While he wanted to chase after the Baranski he couldn't, not now. Later, he promised himself as he nudged his children once more, his attention solely focused on the two doves.  

(This post was last modified: Jun 30, 2016, 06:51 AM by Lachesis.)

stick with those who stick with you

As the little pale bundles wriggled in her embrace, Karina rolled to her side instinctively to give them access to her underside. The movement was awkward as her belly was still bulging with her own unborn children, but the newborns did not seem to mind. They buried themselves in the fur of her underbelly and set to their first meal with eager little grunts. Karina sighed contentedly, blocking out all the pain and anxiety that filled the little den. She was also growing increasingly aware of the stench of death and she blocked that out too, curling all the more tightly around the little ones. No more death, no more pain, she thought squeezing her eyes tight, her body shielding the ghost children from the horrors of the outside world.

 It was not Lachesis’s voice so much as a change in his aura that alerted Karina. Her crystalline eyes opened reluctantly, and they were met with an insistent, almost imploring look from the healer. His aura was buzzing, attention fully upon the young Baranski, and Karina realized he was asking something of her. “I.. of course. Anything you need,” she answered hoarsely, feeling detached from her own voice. She had no idea what she had agreed to and didn’t care; all that mattered in this moment were the little mouths suckling at her underside. She turned her nose in toward the children and hummed soothingly. Soon she was slipping away peacefully, losing herself in the little song and the images the wordless tune invoked, dreams and visions surrounding and submerging her once more. fade