Elias' voice sounded much more distant than it actually was. There was so much going on within herself, roaring and screaming and howling at her, that it was difficult to take in everything occurring outside of her body. This would have heightened her panic, had she not still known him to be right there at her side. Protecting her. As much as he had stayed by her side before this, she knew that he could be trusted to see her through this.
But would their children make it?
Her spine arched as she struggled to push. Her bones felt stretched and uncertain, while her muscles felt contorted and lacking. It was the adrenaline that raced through her system, the worry dominating her mind that amplified everything else and made the birthing so horrid. When Elias touched her, she snarled, the sound strangled but powerful still. It was a reaction, and reason was quick to return to her; for the first time, she whimpered. An apology. It was unlikely to be the last time she lashed out during this, but none of it was personal, only instinct. Nineva hoped he understood, but that small whine had been the only assurance she could spare him at the moment.
Moments passed just the same, until something finally gave. It was out. Nineva twisted frantically, listening to the thrum within her brain that demanded she nip and lick, freeing her child and his air passages. No matter how attentive her cleaning, however, its exceptionally small, frail body did not move. She would have panicked further, had the next contraction hit her, far too soon and hard. Another was already coming.
Two more were birthed into the world in relatively quick succession for a wolf. All three were undersized and limp, no matter how hard their mother strived to wake them. Thoughts that were impossible to grasp onto ricocheted around her mind. What had it been? Genetics? Stress? The move? @Danica? Perhaps superstitions were true, and the Hervok line was simply cursed.
Then came the last. She could feel the difference as the pup moved through her and escaped into the world, knew that this would be the survivor even before she turned to free and clean and coddle the child. The only daughter, she had come out a dark brown rather than the deep black of her siblings, kicking and mewling and graciously plump. Her existence worked magic upon her mother, calming the grayscale woman almost completely. Contractions still caused her pain and she was sore all over, nerves completely frayed, yet there was nothing but love in her eyes and her movements as she cradled the babe against her side.
All of it had been worth this.