The nooks and crannies of what her foster mother once called hers served as a wondrous boon to the heavily pregnant wolf. The porous, limestone-riddled earth even sometimes gave up trickles of water when she dug for it, seeing her through the complete evaporation of the nearby lagoon. It smelled wretched, all the death and rot bared and baked by the relentless sun. Still, it was safety, and it provided.
Besides, this had all finally come to a head. Walrus crawled under the cover of a stone ledge as her contractions strengthened, and they quickly robbed her of autonomy. All she could do was experience what her body demanded, as though it were a separate entity. Walrus grit her fangs and forced the first child into the world with all of her might.
It fell to the ground, an audible sound that gave her relief. One down, and only one more to go she hoped... but it would not be so. She had only moments of rest before the pangs hit again, deep within her gut and all the way through her hips. With great effort, she birthed another. After taking time to catch her breath, she finally turned to witness the tiny beasts exiting her body. That was when she saw the viscera enveloping them, one small body kicking wildly while the other merely twitched. She scowled and snarled with frustration, moving quickly to try and free the children. Her haste cost the moving pup its life, her fangs effortlessly tearing its fragile throat apart. By the time she realized her error and switched gears to pull the firstborn from its sack, it too had perished, suffocated before it could take a true breath.
The next set of contractions were now welcomed. She would not go through this for nothing. Kicking the two dead aside, she focused on bringing a third child into the world. It came out small, and withered looking, but alive. The inexperienced mother cleaned it and pushed it to rest between her forelimbs so that she could monitor it. It was an awful disappointment already, but if it was all she had...
No, there were more. Walrus sent up a small prayer to some nameless deity, and braced herself. Another oily black whelp was brought into the world, this one healthy and crying as soon as the gunk was pulled away from its tiny maw. As long as it was taking breath. She'd nicked it, but that would only help her out if she was lucky enough to-- the Archer daughter flinched, one last pup working its way out of her. It seemed it had taken her five times to get it right; the child was unmarred, large, and strong.
"Thank you," she murmured to the universe, taking the preferred two and guiding them to her stomach so they might feed. The third-born whined for attention, and she silenced it with a motion of her jaws before beginning to pick it apart, ingesting the flesh she'd just birthed. In these conditions, she needed to reclaim the nutrients and liquids the deceased whelps had sucked from her.
Walrus would require all her strength to rear Tooth and Claw.