Hearthwood River on the path unwinding

Birth thread! @Lachesis please, and anyone else who wants to wander in.

The agouti lady moved ponderously through the redwoods of Kingsfall, her distended belly swaying with every step. She was in no hurry to return to her new den, knowing her well-meaning packmates would be anxiously awaiting her return. No doubt Orren would be hovering nearby with a fresh-caught meal for her and Lachesis with some herb or another. Once her milk had begun flowing they all knew it wouldn’t be long, and the expectant mother could only seem to catch a moment to herself was when she took her daily stroll to Lavendar Ethos.  As grateful as she was for her family’s company and ministrations, she wished to be alone when she mourned at Maksim’s graveside. After some convincing, her packmates had conceded to her request.  

She was almost in sight of her birthing den when the pain began, radiating from the pit of her stomach. Naia was no stranger to the feeling; her stomach often hurt when she thought of the departed King. However the distress pangs would often progress upward, making her throat raw and eyes teary.. but this pain was sharper and spread downward, and it felt as if the jaws of some unseen enemy were squeezing her insides into pulp. As soon as the pain appeared it was gone, and Naia was left breathless and shaking. It took a few moments for her to regain movement in her back legs and once more put one foot in front of the other. She had just arrived back at the den when another contraction struck.  

She whimpered as the second wave of pain coursed through her body, and the sound would most certainly catch the ear of the ghostlike healer. Lachesis was both the father and the pack’s medic, so naturally they had selected ground for her whelping den a mere stone’s throw from the medicine den. She hesitated to crawl down into the chamber, wanting to relish the last of the afternoon’s fading sunlight. After all, it would be at least a few hours before the first pup made his or her way into the world. Once she descended into her nest her instincts would compel her to drive away all who approached-- no matter how well-meaning-- and she wished to share a moment of excitement with the father-to-be before she got to work. No doubt Lachesis would have some medicines and words of advice for the laboring mother. 

I'm supposed to be asleep but I couldn't go to bed without responding to this 
EEEEEEE PUPPIES!!!!!

He truly despised smothering Naia. Prior to their little arrangement and her becoming pregnant, the tawny scout had been a very independent wolf. Due to her position in the pack, she also spent a lot of time on her own and was comfortable without the company of others. Lachesis was the same way — he frequently busied himself with his healer duties and kept to himself. That was, of course, until his leadership became permanent.

The loss of another friend, who had been more like a father or brother to him, had hit the ghost hard. Since discovering Kisla huddled against Maksim’s body, the healer also made daily visits to the late king’s gravestone, although his visits were typically under the cover of darkness. Just like when he had first lost Anastasia, this loss was going to be difficult to get over, if not impossible. Maksim had been a friend to the once timid ghost for many years; their bond only strengthening as XIX stood faithfully beside the river king.

Once the milk came Lachesis knew that Naia’s time was coming soon. If only Maksim was here to see it, he had thought to himself many times over, his breath catching in his throat every time. He had been a wonderful father the last two springs; it had been a shame he and Kisla were unable to conceive a third year. XIX would have loved for the green-eyed king to be an uncle to his children just as he had been to the Baranski’s. Now, the late king would be nothing but a story; a river legacy.

While he refrained from smothering the scout, Lachesis was never too far away — especially with her being due any day. During her visits to Maksim he dared not follow. She had been around him just as long as XIX had; he would not interrupt her grieving. It was a difficult time for all the river wolves and hopefully the arrival of puppies would lighten the somber atmosphere over Hearthwood.

A whimper stole him away from his thoughts: it was time. Without further hesitation the healer scrambled to his feet, propelling himself out of his infirmary with the appropriate herbs between his teeth. (He had them laid out at the entrance for his den ever since her milk arrived in anticipation for this moment.) For a moment, he hovered at the entrance to Naia’s birthing den, his heart racing as realization settled in. These puppies, they were his… he was a father. Giving his head a quick shake, he gave a soft woof to alert the golden-eyed mother of his presence as his head and front paws filled the entrance to her den. Placing the plants on the ground he nudged them forward, his ears falling back as he studied Naia to ensure her labour was normal. “Eat this,” he nodded to the alumroot, his voice soft as it filled the den, “only if you are in too much pain. The other is for after.” He paused, a gentle smile rolling onto his pale maw as excitement consumed him once more. “Just breathe, nice and slow. You can do this, Naia.”

(This post was last modified: May 17, 2016, 05:45 AM by Lachesis.)

stick with those who stick with you

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity

So, Bastet is just passing by! Keeping what she knows kind of vague since she recently returned.

Her return to the Lore had brought exaggerated stories--one of sadness and the other of happiness. She learned of Maksim's death in passing, and took this morning to herself to search for the grave in which they had buried him, her desire to bid him a proper fair well would include a series of sobs and onslaught of tears that seemed to fall like a river flowing. She had not been given the chance to meet with him a final time, and to say her thank you's for the millionth time, as there was no about of thanking that was fitting for the bravery he showed in helping to save her --and the agouti male would forever hold a special place in her heart because of this. She knew the pack as a whole was grieving, Kisla probably more than any other, and she was waiting until after the process of grieving had passed before she would meet with the leader of Heartwood River, perhaps to share memories of the agouti king together.

Having wiped another tear from her wet face, she heard what seemed to be a whine and was instantly reminded of the second story she'd heard around the pack--Naia would be having puppies fairly soon. She was not sure of the father, assuming that which ever male remained could very well father her pups and left the river king just quick enough to witness the gangly form of Lachesis at the mouth of her birthing den. She did not question his presence, knowing the alabaster leader to be well versed in healing and his role vital in the birth of pups to a first time mother--it didn't occur to her that the male who had stolen her heart would be the father to the newly birthed puppies. 

She watched from a distance, not wanting to be seen considering her relationship with Naia was indifferent at best and giving birth to pups often made the mother territorial and aggressive both traits she was in no mood for. She wouldn't help the smile that formed along her maw as she watched Lachesis at work, knowing that in his hands her pups would be healthy and the new mother just the same--she only wished that it were her in that very position. Sighing, she listened as sounds of whimpers and whines continued from the den and would vanish just before the mew of the first born pup could be heard in the distance, in her absence she would search for a birthing gift to grant the new mother and follow up once the mess of birth was no longer.

--Bastet exit-- 

(This post was last modified: May 17, 2016, 06:51 AM by Bastet.)

Avatars by Becca! Thank you!

No sooner had Naia whimpered when the medic appeared, bundle of herbs in tow as if he had known all along that the expectant mother would return from her jaunt in labor. Naia greeted the father of her children with a grin, sides heaving rhythmically as she panted from exertion. Her golden and his green eyes shimmered with identical expressions of excitement and apprehension. The medic explained the different plants he prescribed, and the familiarity of it had a calming effect on the timber lady. Her prolonged sickness from the previous winter had rendered her a frequent patron of the medicine den, and she was no stranger to Lachesis’s ministrations. “I’ll call if I need you,” she promised, having been present for enough River births to know that the medic would post himself at the mouth of the den. She nudged her friend affectionately before taking the bundle up in her mouth and disappearing below.

. . .

“Kyrios,” Naia whispered to the squeaking tuft of fur at her side, her heart so full of joy at the sight of her son that she couldn’t bear to tear her eyes away. He was a robust, hungry little tyke, and his mother’ rough licks across his back did little to distract him from his meal. The new mother’s delight began to wane as the minutes after Kyrios’s birth dragged out and she could make no brother or sister appear for her son. With a pang of terror, Naia realized the extended labor was weakening her; she could only just barely discern the contractions from the throbbing pain that radiated from the lower half of her body.   “Lach..” Naia breathed, her voice strained as she summoned the healer. “It’s been too long,” she explained once he appeared, “I.. don’t know what’s wrong.” Naia closed her eyes with a weary sigh, feeling calmer just for the healer’s presence.

Couldn't keep the slugger away >.>

The Baranski prince moved through the woods like a ghost, mechanically going through the motions as he had every day since that dreadful morning at the Ethos. Every morning he woke up before sunrise, feeling just as tired as he had when he went to sleep. Yet he would rise, starting a patrol along the border - in the past, his hunts had been less organized, led by whim and weather, but now he followed the scent line almost slavishly – only straying once he came across a fresh trail. Often he managed to catch a rabbit before nightfall, though more and more of them seemed to be getting away. He paid it little mind however, turning back to the border until he found a new set of tracks. Once the sun began to set, he would return, prize in maw, dropping it in a cache – mostly the one right outside the infirmary, where Naia slept – before making his way to the communal den, going to sleep quietly. He'd considered finding a secluded spot to spend the night, but in the end he couldn't leave the girls by themselves. He spoke very little though, simply curling up with one or both of his younger sisters and surrendering to the brief peace of unconsciousness. And then the next morning would come, and he'd repeat. But inside he felt numb, even the hunt could no longer bring him joy. He only did it out of habit, and because someone had to, just like walking the border; Someone has to… He had a hard time facing his mother, fearing that either of them might burst into tears, something he wasn't sure he could handle either way around. Same went for the girls, though he tried not to ignore them completely, he felt best on his own, somehow managing to keep moving, hunt, sleep, repeat. He ate little to nothing himself, almost all he caught went to Naia. His only solace, the thought that at least new life would come to the river, that even though everyone mourned the loss of their king, there would be some joy too. He was happy for Naia, excited even, she deserved this bliss, her and Lach both. So he tried to keep to that thought as much as possible. Today was no different, at least he thought so when it began. The hunt turned out lucky though, a fat brown hare finding its escape blocked by the burly wolf as it jumped for the burrow. And so, he figured he might as well bring the catch to Naia while it was fresh, and then head back out on his round. But as he arrived to find the infirmary empty, his otherwise so sluggish mind started to reel. The last he had seen of the scout, she was bulging like he remembered Kisla last year, right before the girls were born, it did not take a healer to guess what might be under way, both XIX and his parenthood-partner absent; It's time! Fiery eyes wide, the young wolf scoured the surrounding trees, how long had it been? Was it already over? Noticing a flash of white through the foliage, Orren jumped forwards, soon clearing the short distance to where Lachesis sat sentinel, before a narrow den opening. Still clutching the hare, he stood frozen across from the medic, ears perked and eyes circle round. When finally he gathered enough sense to drop his prize, panting heavily as it fell to the ground with a thud, it took several more moments of silence before he found control of his tongue; "Lach, how is she?!" Word count: 604 ”Speech" Thoughts

FurLined @DA

(This post was last modified: May 22, 2016, 08:32 PM by Orren.)

PLOT WITH ME!

The excitement that bubbled up inside of him was almost impossible to contain. He had been present for two of Kisla’s births and now he was experiencing the birth of his own children. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, the healer hovered by the entrance to the den until Naia dismissed him. After a quick nod he watched her tawny form disappear into the obsidian pit before he, too, turned away. Folding his hindquarters against the ground he waited (im)patiently for his children to meet the outside world. Naia was a strong, capable wolf — Lachesis knew that he would not have to worry {too much} about her.

Orren appeared, a hare swaying from his jowls, his excitement radiating off of him as he approached. “Good, she’s good,” he responded, his eyes bright as he focused on the tawny Baranski. With his paws trembling, he returned his attention to what was happening inside the den. He appreciated the boy’s presence but there would be time for chit chat later. His main concern was Naia and their children.

His heart nearly burst as he heard a few newborn whimpers from down below, his ears pinned forward as he listened for more. But nothing came. He blinked, confused. No — something wasn’t right. He did not hesitate as Naia’s voice called out from below. Scrambling forward, he studied the agouti scout with anxious eyes, his forehead knitted in confusion. “Eat some of this,” he instructed in a soft voice as he pointed to the sweet grass. Trying to remain calm was proving difficult but he had to. There was no time for anything but calm. “You're okay, just breathe.” His chartreuse eyes glanced over at the pale ball of fur at her side and a wave of pride washed over him. “Healthy and beautiful,” he muttered, more to himself, before redirecting his focus back to Naia. “And the other one will be as well. Breathe and push. I know you’re tired but you’re almost done. I am so proud.” He knew that Naia had one last burst of energy in her; she just needed to find it.

stick with those who stick with you

Naia met her friend’s encouragement with a weary smile, eyes sparkling when @Lachesis confirmed that her first pup was healthy. Ever the obedient patient, she forced down a mouthful of stringy sweetgrass. The laboring mother felt her energy drain from her body with every straining heave. The coppery tinge of blood filled her nose, and Naia dared not turn to see the extent of the bleeding. The timber lady gritted her teeth and growled, insistent that she would finish what she started here. She gathered her few scraps of remaining energy and made a final, desperate attempt to deliver. Searing pain lanced through her hindquarters, but Naia hardly noticed it for the joy of hearing her new daughter’s voice for the first time.

 Naia met Lachesis’s eyes in the dim light of the cave, too proud of their family to even speak. She ignored the stream of blood oozing between her rear legs, focusing instead on cleaning and checking over the second squeaking bundle. She was certain that she had been carrying more than two in her womb, but it was not in a wolf’s practical nature to mourn the unborn. She had two living children to care for, and she knew—as a mother knows—that the two were all the gods were going to grant her this day.

  “@Kyrios,” she said again, this time for Lachesis’s approval. Her voice was hoarse and barely more than a whisper, but they were so close that it made no difference. She waited to hear what Lachesis would call the girl; together they had come up with a dozen different names for the litter they expected. Naia sighed happily, and felt a sudden wave of dizziness. She lowered her head to the floor of the den, closing her eyes to allow the moment to pass.  For the first time she noticed just how exhausted she was, far more than she had ever been before-- even last winter when she was bedridden for such.

 A flicker of a dream began, and Naia smiled as an old, familiar friend approached. He no longer walked with the limp he had developed in his final year-- every step was full of power and purpose, and his green eyes sparkled with the wisdom of a thousand years. This was the Maksim she knew; the one who had taken her into Cut Rock River, given her a home and a job, and made her part of his family. Naia greeted him joyfully, whining as she pressed her muzzle to his. The Baranski King returned a somber smile, but remained still.. quiet, solemn.. waiting. He dipped his head expectantly, and it was then that Naia realized why her King had come.

  “No!” She breathed, ears flattening in dismay. “Not now, not yet!" She backed away from the man, tucking her tail in shame as she realized that it was the first time she had ever refused a request from her King. The Baranski narrowed his eyes, but remained patient despite her insubordination. Naia bowed her head until her crown was flat against the dirt, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that were flowing. “I just need one more moment, let me see them one last time..” It was a lot to ask, she knew.. after all Maksim himself had not been granted any last words.

 When she opened her eyes she was back in the den, vision blurred from her tears. “I have to go with Maksim,” she whispered to Lachesis, calm and resolute. Her children would be okay— they had Lachesis for a father after all. Naia knew that Karina had returned heavy with child and had milk flowing as well; there would be a Hearthwood River wolf to nourish and mother her twins as she could not. Perhaps Lachesis and his former student would reconcile their differences, now that they were joined in a greater purpose.

 Naia’s eyes glazed as her mind drifted to Karina’s brother, heart aching for what she must ask him to do.  “Orren,” she forced out, fighting against the pull of unconsciousness. “..He must find Inali. Secret Woodlands. Tell her..” Tell her I love her. That we have a beautiful son. That she must nurture his growth, and love him as much as she loved me..” It was her dying wish, and yet she was unable to muster the energy to put it to words.  Bringing news of her passing to her lover would not be easy, but there was no one else Naia trusted with the task. @Orren had grown up well—arguably the best of his litter, as dutiful as he was strong. Like his father.  Naia liked to think she had a paw in that, since she had taken the boy under her wing.

 Naia sighed, her last breath easing out gently as her lover’s countenance filled the darkness behind her eyelids. Inali’s azure eyes sparkled wickedly, as they had when the pair had just met, and the perfume of cherry blossoms filled Naia’s senses.   I love you.  @Inali embraced her, and her intoxicating scent enveloped the agouti like a blanket swaddling a newborn. She rose only at Maksim’s insistent nudge, leaving her lover a farewell kiss upon her maw. Naia Aegina stood to follow her King, as doughty in death as she was in life, and side-by-side they walked into the beckoning light.

 

don't mind me just sobbing again over Naia's post :c 

It was equally strange and remarkable how far he had come from life behind the fences. Due to the restrictions set in place, life had been much simpler on the reserve. There had been little to no threats (aside from arguments between packmates) and food was never scarce. Every wolf knew their place, along with their role, and hierarchy was almost non existent. At the time, Nineteen would have happily lived out the rest of his days behind the fence, blissfully unaware of what life was like on the other side. Being a skittish, timid wolf he had been an easy target for his brothers, who bullied him relentlessly. It was his brother Pyrrhus who had forced the ghost into leaving, after their other brother Sarpedon had backed out. If it had not been under the pressure of his brother to seek out the world beyond the fence, Lachesis would still be there now, completely satisfied with the simplistic life. Children had never been a thought on his mind, for he had never seen himself as the ‘father type’. Leading a pack was a different story — the clumsy, stuttering mess who had stumbled upon the lands of Relic Lore many, many moons ago would never have thought of himself as a leader. Not even a second. Being a healer was easy — he could keep to himself and help others, something he was good at and enjoyed doing, without the responsibility of monitoring pack affairs and members. Oh, how things had changed.

Even now the ghost was often bewildered about his current position. It had been the result of a series of unfortunate events and while he still was not sure what he was doing, Lachesis knew he had to lead the river wolves. Not only for Maksim and his children, but for himself. This was his home and would remain his home until he was no longer fit to lead (for then he would pursue the life of a nomad or hermit); he would do anything to protect it. Including preventing it into falling into the wrong paws.

There was blood but that was normal. It did not seem like an alarming amount, which meant everything was going according to plan. Another whimper filled the den moments after Lachesis’ encouragement: their daughter had arrived. Pride roared triumphantly in his chest, his chartreuse gaze brimming with water that threatened to spill. “Kyrios,” he murmured in agreement, a smile resting lazily across his pale maw, “and Atropos. Atropos Stark.” it was a name he had settled on long ago, perhaps even before he knew he was going to be a father. Since Lachesis himself did not have a surname (perhaps he would take on his daughter’s) he thought his child deserved one. So, to honour Anastasia’s memory, he had taken the first half of her second name and given it to little Atropos — again, something he had decided on when the name Atropos first appeared in his thoughts.

As he looked at the scout for approval Lachesis quickly realized something was wrong. Very wrong. The smell of blood was growing stronger as Naia’s eyes blinked lazily, her breathing much slower than it should be. No, no… “Naia!” His voice filled the den as he attempted to rouse her. Prodding her forehead with his nose he called her name a second time, fear consuming him as he glanced around the den frantically. She needed the herbs — he needed to stop the blood flow. As he gathered the bundle of plants he had brought with him and shoved them toward her, Naia’s eyes reopened. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but steady. ‘I have to go with Maksim…’ “Naia, no! You can’t! Not yet, please not yet,” he pleaded, unaware that he was now sobbing as he pushed the plants toward, beckoning her to take them. “Please Maksim, don’t take her yet,” he whispered, cheeks damp as he nosed the agouti mother. The bundles of pale fur squeaked at her side as she asked for Orren to deliver a message to her lover in the Woodlands. His throat was tight as he nodded frantically, his forehead pressed to hers. Another friend was being torn away from him — clearly the ghost was bad luck. He could feel her life fading away; the king was taking his dutiful scout to a pasture beyond the horizon, where the grass was always green and the prey forever abundant. Where she would be able to watch her children grow and live a long, happy life. “Goodbye Naia,” he managed as the scout took her last breath, his heart heavy and threatening to burst into a million little pieces.

It was not until their daughter whimpered that Lachesis realized where he was and what had happened. His chest still tight he scampered backward, his paws bloodstained as he turned to Orren, his cheeks glistening with salty tears. “Find Karina or Kisla — now.” His voice was barely authoritative, as it threatened to crack, but he did not care. His children needed the milk of another and quickly.

stick with those who stick with you

I couldn't help posting Karina here.. I'm having some attachment issues for Naia -laugh/sob- My loose idea is for Karina to smuggle the little bundles of joy off to Zephyr Rill once everyone leaves to bury Naia.

Grief for Karina was like a spilled glass of water; its contents flowed freely in all directions, dampening and morphing every piece of reality it touched. The princess had moments of more and less lucidity, but often what was real and what was dream or hallucination was indistinguishable to the ailing girl. Occasionally she would forget why she was grieving or convince herself that her father’s death was just a nightmare, and in these times she felt almost like herself again. She would remember that she was a mother with a duty to the unborn riding along in her belly, and she would emerge from her den to drink from the Rill, nourish herself, and prepare for the dragonlets’ birth. Once she reentered her den she would sink back into the reveries of her despair, unable to recall anything from her journey outside the den moments before.

Today was such a day—Karina could feel Maksim’s spirit so close and so full of life that it was impossible that he could be dead. When she first emerged from her den she had begun sniffing behind nearby bushes looking for her father, and the sunlight and fresh air had cleared her mind, reminding her of her unborn pups. She ambled toward the medicine den, heavy teats swinging with every step. She just needed a little of this and a little of that to prepare for the birth—perhaps something to start contractions just in case she didn’t find herself away from Zephyr Rill again.

Thankfully Lachesis was away. As much as she cared for her would-be mentor, she knew he would have so much to say to her—so much to ask—and she couldn’t bear answering questions right now. As she was rifling through Lachesis’s stores she heard the medic shout, and she started so badly that she bumped her head against the ceiling of the den. For a fleeting moment she thought she had been caught and the healer was angry, but she quickly realized that the shout had been more distant, and more panicked than angry. It had also been for her.

“Orren, I’m here.” Karina said, popping up out of the healer’s den like a jack-in-the-box. She closed the distance to her brother, fixing him with a concerned expression. “What’s wrong?” She peered down into the den her brother guarded, and the smells of birth flooded her senses. Who’s giving birth? In the back of Karina’s mind she knew she should  know, but her clouded mind revealed and obscured information seemingly at random, and this information was lost to her at the moment. Is it Mom? Karina darted into the den without waiting for an invitation.

Though most wolves would have balked at the grizzly sight—certainly Karina would, if she had been in her right mind— all of her surroundings seemed to melt away when Karina set eyes on the wriggling newborns. A surge of motherly hormones propelled her forward, and she nudged Lachesis to the side in order to curl protectively around the infants. She had recognized the children the moment she saw them-- they were Kisla’s stillborn babes from last year, her siblings—and seeing them alive and well (although a little pale and ghostly) filled Karina’s heart with joy. She knew others crowded the den, but their voices and emotions were so far away they sounded like whispers. She only had eyes and ears for the pups, her lost siblings reborn for another chance at life.