With Naira's increasingly agitated mood, Mapplethorpe only kept close whenever she required his presence. Otherwise, the Hollowheart Keep ruler and Advisor kept his distance, usually remaining within earshot unless his afternoon naps rendered him unreachable. Today was different though and he had awoken with a restlessness in his limbs. Duty brought him up onto all four of his paws and he made sure to check in with his mate's chosen birthing den before circling around and coming back. He had been comfortably nestled up against her back when Naira had gotten up, a sense of urgency hastening her steps.
One of his ears twitched, and soon after he was able to stand back up, he quietly followed. The worry and concern alone had been enough to put a crease in his brow but Mapplethorpe was no fool in realizing if and when it was time. Before the arrival of Aponi and Nova, the grizzled man had also witnessed a few other "royal" arrivals, but none of them had been as compelling as this particular brood. These cubs were his. His and Naira's.
Once upon a time, when he had been foolish and young, he had thought fatherhood was something undesirable. It was a means to surround oneself with an army of offspring, a way of defending one's throne, instead of defending it through mere power and independence alone. The idea that he would somehow be responsible for a son had also brushed him the wrong way. In leaving Vigilate Keep, he had hoped to avoid having history repeat itself. If he had been able to spare his nephew - or, goodness forbid, his own son - the brunt of the consequences he had suffered just for being a male in his family, then he would have felt as though he had done something good. With Naira, though, one by one, his walls and codes had fallen away. As a result, everything he had been raised to believe had been skewed. If there was one thing he might hope to accomplish in life, then he did want to have a family... with someone that he loved. Starting with him, his children would be the first to have an unbiased upbringing. Princes and princesses, heirs and heiresses, queens and kings, or even dutiful subordinates, whatever they wished to be, he only wished that they would always be only the very best versions of themselves. Whether they grew up to be like Cezanne's or Naira's or even younger, more agile versions of himself, in binding himself to Naira, he had made it his duty to bring forth a descendant worthy of Hollowheart Keep.
Naira's scent hung in the air surrounding her underground burrow and for several moments, he sat down at the entrance of it, staring into the darkness in hopes of a sign that everything was all right. Eventually, the ache in his joints won him out and by the time Naira let out a simple whine, he had been sprawled out on the forest floor, listening and waiting. At first his head came up and a plain, raspy bark answered back to let her know that he had been reassured.
He slowly scooted forward just enough to lay his head within the entrance of the downward tunnel, his ears cupped forward so that he could hear for himself the tranquil sounds of both his mate and the children they had welcomed into Relic Lore.