Cedarwood Forest no one's ever gonna hurt you, love

To be edited to take place in Laurel Thicket. @Kjell the only one welcome into the den. (Not that Pip would really do anything other than nip at any of her packmate's if they decided to shove their way in). Others will be welcome in future threads. Marked mature for descriptions associated with birth and stillborns.

She woke in the early hours of morn before the sun had even thought about rising with a gripping pain clenching in her belly. A quiet, and yet sharp, intake of breath was the only indication of her shock, the only sound that could pass as a cry. The night before had left her restless and anxious and she’d lost count of how many times she’d vomited yesterday. Each pile had been carefully buried and hidden; she didn’t want to worry anyone with the others close to term. Pip saw no reason to draw the attention of the pack when it was likely the same bellyaches that usually greeted her each morning. Except those bellyaches had lasted throughout the day and only subsided after the sun had set.

But this pain was not an uncomfortable ache. It crashed over her in angry waves, stealing her breath with each one as if her paws had carried her too far out into the tide and water was crashing over her head. The little mute panted, nervous and hurting, as she stood to pace. No matter how she situated herself, comfort was nowhere to be found.

Russet ears lay flat against her head while orange eyes wheeled in panic. Was this it? Her sunset eyes cast around in the darkness for @”Kjell”’s familiar form only to find he was missing. Her mate had only just come back to the territory days before. Where could he possibly be at this time of morning? Already out on patrol? Hunting? She wanted to whine. To howl for him and summon him back to her side. Had he been out so soon before dawn all of these past few days so as not to disturb her rest?

Was this how it was to truly go down? With no one else here? Pip took one halting step from the birthing den she’d dug with the help of Rook and Amaryllis only to crumble onto the ground. There was no way she could go for help now. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. She should have let them all know yesterday and not hidden away her illness and discomfort.

Clean. Pups should be born in at least a somewhat clean atmosphere. She’d taken great pains to make sure every time she felt ill that she lost her meal outside the den, so it was as clean as it could get. So she turned to herself, licking in a frenzy as if a puppy could pop out any minute. By the pain currently racking her small body, she felt it would be ages before that could happen.

Push. It was the one thing she remembered. She was supposed to push. When? Should she already have been doing it? Why did it hurt so much? Tearfully, she thought of horror stories of pregnancies gone wrong. Of puppies caught in the canal or born too early or too late. Was she too late? The little mute lay on her side as she tried to focus solely on breathing. Had Oula been in this much pain last year?

When she felt the barest bit of relief with her efforts, Pip turned and spotted a monstrous head peeking from her and soundlessly yelped in surprise as she jumped up. Spinning once in an effort to get a better look, the sea wolf’s back legs stumbled and she fell back onto her side. Anxiously, she licked and licked at the pup’s face and felt no response. How long had he or she been there?

She was supposed to stimulate. Veho had warned her of that. She had to make them live.

Another few minutes of pushing and the pup was expelled with serosanguinous fluid, its umbilical cord still attached. Pip licked and licked, swallowing anything that got between her and her pup. Had to stay clean. There should be a heartbeat, right? She should feel it under her tongue. There should be little raspy breaths and some sign of life, right?? So why was there nothing? Refusing to give up, the mute kept at it with steadfast determination to make it – her – live. A girl. Her first born was a girl. And she wasn’t breathing. She didn't have a heartbeat. Had Pip the voice for it, she would have been wailing with anguish and confusion and panic. Nothing was working. Not the cleaning, not the nuzzling, not anything!

Pip plucked up her pup and carried her to a new spot within the den and lay there with her for too long between her forelegs without response. Her little one was stillborn.

No one prepared her for this. For the grief. For even the possibility.

The interval between the first and the second was too long. Any hopes she’d had were dashed when her efforts garnered no more reward than the first. The second – a boy – was also stillborn.

Her own heart thundered against her chest. She had to get the others out. Now. Now! But what if they were gone, too? What if she didn’t have any? It would serve her right. That’s what happens when you break pack law, she thought as she wept. It didn’t matter that she’d worked so hard and tried all she could to be a good packmate. This was her punishment. This grief was her burden.

The third pup brought her dashed hopes sailing high as it gave a weak wail of distress upon its birthing and was smeared with fetid material. But its gasping little breaths gave a new meaning to the word panic. She couldn’t breathe! She couldn’t breathe and Veho wasn’t here and Pip didn’t know what to do!! What was she supposed to do?! She licked and licked and nudged the pup towards her belly to help her find food there, but the little girl’s plaintive movements grew slower as time passed until she, too, no longer had a heartbeat.

The fourth, the last, followed shortly after. He was dark and his lungs had not been hampered in development as his siblings had been, for he raged against his arrival into the world with squealing protests and paddled with a strength the third had not shown. As before, hope surged again. Tears of grief and pain had morphed to those of pitiful relief.

It wasn’t until he was suckling steadily at her teats that Pip felt herself take a shaky breath of relief. One. The sea gods had showed her mercy after all and granted her one. And a fearsome one at that. She could not have loved a life more than the one left at her side. Within the den, three other lifeless pups were strewn in disarray while her little warrior lived on and thrived.  

Only once her little miracle had succumbed to quiet slumber did Pip unfold herself from around him and carefully gather up the lost ones. Shame and sorrow hung over her shoulders like a heavy mantle. Should she wait for Kjell to return and find them? That seemed too cruel after all he had done to rejoin her. The least she could have done was provide him with strong, healthy children. She failed. Was it something she’d done? Had it been too stressful, that time with the fish that had nearly overtaken her? She should have been more careful. Maybe she’d worked too hard to prove she could remain useful to the pack.

With the help of no one, the first-time mother lay three of her children to rest in shallow graves away from the den so as not to lead predators to the last precious treasure she had left before returning quickly to her son’s side.

Pack life did not suit Kjell Sørenson, not one bit.  Unfortunately, it did suit Signy.  Or Pip.  Whatever her packmates called her.  At some point, he’d have to as the woman which she preferred, though greater tasks occupied the dragon’s mind.  The closer the female came to birth, the more protective the swarthy male became.  If he wasn’t pacing near her chosen den, than the wolf was somewhere along the borders of Grizzly Hollow to mark the territory – there were benefits to added protection, after all.  If he wasn’t scent marking, than he was finding something to bring back to his mate.
 
As he was just now.
 
Unfortunately, with no voice, Signy had been unable to call him when the labor started; by the time Kjell returned, a fish hanging from his jaws, the woman had disappeared inside the den.  And it reeked of blood and death.
 
The trout fell at the entrance, already forgotten, and the dark male shoved his face inside.  “Signy?” he rasped, already beginning to fear the worst.  At Widow’s Peak, the first lead female, she’d died during birth; rare, they’d told him, but what if-- 
 
As soon as his eyes, he realized there was nothing in the den…except a small pup.  But it was not the boy who smelled of death, for though he was sleeping, his sides moved as he continued to draw breath.  But where was his mother?
 
Kjell backpedaled, throwing his head up with a frantic bark.  “Signy?  Where are you?”  A peep, a chirp, anything?  What if the death smell was her?

The trudge back to the den was uncomfortable. Pip's insides felt raw and sore, but they could hardly compare to the ache in her heart. They were so tiny. Innocent to the world. They didn't deserve death. She supposed she should be grateful for the two that were born without taking their first breath. They, at least, did not suffer needlessly. But the little girl born before her son... To take those few raspy breaths and still not have the strength to carry on? It was unfair.

Up ahead, the sound of someone near her den had the sea wolf's ears ramming straight forward and her lips peeled up to show teeth in a grimace. No! She had one left! There was no way she would lose him to some beast!

Quickening her steps, the agouti female was ready to defend her pup or die trying, but skidded to a stop when she heard her mate call out for her in a panic. Relief knocked the wind from her and she slumped, head and tailing falling momentarily as she took a breath. @Kjell. He'd come home. The chirp she made was weaker and more frail than any she'd made before, hardly loud enough to even be audible, half choked as it was.

She rushed to her dark knight and immediately buried her face in the fur at his chest as her shoulders wracked with silent sobs. How could she explain? How could she even let him know that there were four and now only one? As soon as she thought it, she regretted letting the emotion show. She could have just pretended nothing was wrong at all. Then, he wouldn't have to be sorrowful along with her. He could just be happy for their son.

The little female pulled away and shook her head. She didn't have time to feel sorry for herself. And though her grief would likely linger for far longer than she wanted, she had to ensure her pup survived. For now, the little mute looked to her mate as if he may have all the answers. What was supposed to happen next? All she knew was that she was hurting and exhausted and she had to return to her pup. A little tug on Kjell's fur was given to ensure he followed her into the den.

Rather than settling daintily as she usually would, Pip slumped gracelessly in a heap before reaching towards her son and nuzzling him close against her belly. He needed a name, she realized. Kjell would have to give him one for obvious reasons. But he was excellent with names. After all, she preferred the one he gave her to the one bestowed upon her at birth.

In the immediate silence that followed his calls, Kjell could feel the rising panic in his chest.  He’d never had pups before, no, but he’d been in a pack before this one, and the first lead female had died giving birth.  ‘Not that uncommon,’ the healer had said – why the fuck hadn’t he thought of all these consequences when Signy had given him those doe eyes?

Those eyes.

The wolf was just about to tip his head and howl for the woman – something he resented doing, lest he attract the attention of literally anyone else in this Mother-forsaken pack – when something warm pressed against his sides. “Signy!” he choked, twisting to look at his mate with his only remaining eye.  Before he could nuzzle or lick, the small sea wolf was moving again, and he was moving after her, allowing the woman to lead him back to the small birthing den.

Once she was inside, and safely settled with the tiny ball of fur pressed against her belly, Kjell moved inside cautiously.  They were mates, yes, but he wasn’t certain that was an explicit invitation inside.  He observed the pair carefully – definitely his son, he noted with a wry grin, a smudge of darkness against his mother’s lighter coat.  “He’s perfect,” Kjell sighed softly, temporarily forgetting the panic that had seized him moments earlier.  He reached down gingerly to swipe his tongue across the cub’s head, watching his strong little movements; he clearly preferred the warmth of his mother over anything else. “Is he eating?”

How long had he been here before Kjell realized?

omg PLEASE THUMP ME if I take more than five days omg

He looked nervous. Despite the heartache she'd so recently suffered, Pip found the ability to smile again. Her sunset colored eyes were exhausted, but kind humor lit them in the darkness of the den. Did he think she would bite him? He should know better by now! It wasn't her nature.

Upon setting eyes on his surviving son, Pip empathized completely with the way he looked at the boy with awe. Yes, he was perfect. And she couldn't be more grateful that the sea gods thought him worthy enough to survive the fate his siblings did not. Was it something she should try to share with him or continue to hide? The young female shared a soft sigh with only herself. Nothing good would come of it. What was done was done. Hurting @Kjell with such news would not change what had happened.

As her mate asked after his son's health and appetite, her smile returned and she nodded with vigor. Yes! He was eating well. At least, she felt he was. She had nothing to compare him to as she'd not dared enter Oula's den when she'd been nursing. But he seemed already to be of good spirits and suckled appropriately. He didn't need much encouragement. As further proof, her little sea dragon woke and mewled in complaint before latching on to one of her swollen teats.

With amusement, her eyes laughed up at Kjell.

The smile was small and didn’t quite reach his mate’s tired eyes, but it seemed honest enough – Kjell had become so accustomed to the woman’s facial expressions, it stopped occurring to him that she could lie too, if she put her mind to it. The why didn’t matter. For now, the gamma male was willing to accept it. He leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses to the woman’s muzzle and brows and crown. His tail swished behind him lazily before the tiny noise caught his ears. They pricked forward as he tipped his head, studying the tiny bundle of fur nursing against Signy’s side. For all his worries, the kid certainly seemed pretty healthy.

Not that he could be certain, only being a hunter, once upon a time, but the puppy looked pretty…happy.

Kjell reorganized himself, finally allowed himself a satisfied smile as his bright orange gaze drifted back to his mate. He pressed their noses together before looking the woman back over, ears twitching as he tried to determine if she was alright. That was a little different, he supposed. “What about you, gem? How’re you doin’?” he asked, tail swishing behind him lazily. “I can…get that Veho guy. If you want.”

Only if she asked.

Kjell's kisses and affection could sustain the mute forever, Pip mused. How much time had she spent yearning for his touch while he was away seeking his brother and fighting mountain lions? Too long. And now, he was here. Here with her, raising their son together as a family was meant. Pip had no earthly clue what she was doing. No one ever adequately prepared her for motherhood. While her sister had been given plenty of talk from their mother on rearing cubs and how to teach, Pip had been scooted along to favor her fishing skills alone. She had grown so much since then, but still not enough to innately know how to raise a son. All she did know was that she would always do her best to make sure he lived a long, happy life and never had to doubt her love for him as she had.

His question earned a quick - too quick - shake of her head in denial. Her smile was too strained, but again, honest enough. No, no. There was nothing Veho could do here and now, of that she was certain. She was in no danger and her little one seemed for all intents and purposes to be healthy. There was no need to stress Kjell over the male's presence in their shared space unless necessary. Hoping to reassure him that all was well, Pip reached over to lick his face and over his missing eye gently.

In all honesty, she was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. A deep breath was released slowly and the little mute settled her head on her forepaws before flopping over fully on her side in an effort to get comfortable. The action startled her little one who sent up a fresh range of whines, forcing Pip to sit up again and nuzzle him back into his sense of security.

He needed a name. For obvious reasons, Pip could not give him one. She would be content to call him little one for the rest of his life, but imagined the rest of the pack would need something to call him. Looking from the pup to Kjell and back again meaningfully, Pip offered the quietest of chirps in an effort to communicate what she needed from him. A name. A name for their son who would carry the Sorenson line with him.

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

No? No healer?

Kjell paused for a moment – was she being a martyr, trying to swallow the pain? Or was his little Signy so tough that even childbirth didn’t phase her? Shit, he was phased, and he wasn’t the one who’d gone into labor!

The wolf allowed himself a moment more to squint at his partner before giving a slow nod – if she didn’t want the resident healer, he was hardly about to invite the knight into the dragon’s den. He was most certainly not among those numbered as Veho’s fans. So he allowed Signy’s gentle kisses and returned them in kind, watching with one careful eye as the woman settled back down, clearly trying to make herself comfortable.

At least the tyke didn’t seem to be giving her too much of a hard time.

The one-eyed dragon’s tail swept across the floor of the den slowly, gaze flickering between son and mate as she tucked the boy back in, fussing over him until the tiny ball of fuzz settled. Sure was a set of lungs on him, even at this age, Kjell noted wryly. It was only well into the silence that he realized the duty of naming (normally given to mothers, at least where he’d been raised, for obvious reasons) was going to fall on him.

“Whaddya think about Aegir?” he asked, a bit out of the blue.

I will finish this!!  -yells into the sun-

Once again, Pip found herself surprised by the depth of Kjell's understanding of her handicap. How many males in so short a time would even realize her inability during such a time and - without taking or offering offense even by mistake - could then offer a solution? She wondered if he had been a wolf like Veho. Would her big brother figure have stumbled over himself, nervous of offending her when offering the suggestion? Or would he have been just as blase about it, giving her just what she needed?

Having someone normalize her inability to speak continued to shock her. She simply hadn't had that growing up. And @Kjell, he wasn't like Blitz and Niq'x; he didn't presume to know what she wanted to say as they sometimes did. He asked, and only when she had giving affirmation did he take it as agreement. It was just another reason she'd fallen so irrevocably in love with him. Anyone would look at them and think them an ill suited match. Kjell was bigger than life, scarred and rough looking where she was dainty and meek. The black male practically dwarfed the new mother, but no one could claim to have been as gentle in comparison.

Aegir. She liked it; the strong sound of it. Pip nodded her agreement, but tilted her head in questioning, curious as to what it meant. She had learned by now that Kjell always had a reason behind the names he gave. They meant something. Their son would, too.