Sex: Female Karina's birth thread-- it's late, so Bennet won't be playable for another week (apologies, Siki). Thread is AW and ready to go, but only @Kjors will be allowed in the den. I'm assuming @Lachesis's pups are with Karina nursing, but that can be ambiguous since Karina thinks they're just a hallucination. There are a couple small PP's in here (Lachesis and Kjors) and I'm happy to edit if need be.
Her welcome back to Kingsfall had been sweet and joyous, more than anything she could have hoped. No one had seemed the least bit surprised about her pregnancy or questioned her about the father—no doubt her mother had spread a discreet word to her subjects upon Karina’s arrival home. The Mother did not allow her priestess to bask in her happiness for long however—a mere fortnight after the princess’s return tragedy struck the River, ripping away the King for good and all. Karina had not even realized the extent of her father’s sickness, and suspected Lachesis had kept it quiet so her packmates wouldn’t panic. He could have told me though. Karina had been his apprentice (albeit an absentee one) and she ought to have been helping the medic care for Maksim instead of skipping around Kingsfall in ignorant bliss. Now her father was dead, without ever having met his grandcubs—without even the chance to say goodbye.
Karina could not stand the guilt. She should have been at Maksim’s side every day for the last three months, and instead she had defied her parents’ explicit command to embark on a hopeless mission. She returned home pregnant and shamed... she hoped that Maksim had been sick enough to have been spared that bit of information. And so she punished herself, curling up in her den in Zephyr Rill to mourn alone. Ghosts and darkness were her only companions, and they were all she deserved. Occasionally Kjors would appear and curl around her, or press some food upon her, but he had long since given up on trying to make her speak. Karina ate only out of duty to the hatchlings in her womb, and every bite roiled her stomach, threatening to reappear. More often than Kjors, her companions were memories—and the more Karina sank into despair and went without sustenance, the more corporal these companions became.
The doe would not join Karina in the den (crawling underground was unnatural for deer) but occasionally poked her worried head down into the priestess’s chamber. After a few days, ghosts from the past had begun to visit her, to shake their heads and shame her with growls and frowns. Davin and his lost family had visited, and the heartbreak in his silver eyes as he gazed upon her distended belly was more than Karina could stand. She had chased those shades away with a growl. Minka and Tokino joined her every now and then, along with Kova.. they were more polite guests at least, attempting to sooth Karina with reassurances that Maksim had joined The Mother’s pack and was happy. She had also been visited by a lovely woman with the same sage green eyes as her mother. Even Kisla’s two stillborn pups from last spring had appeared, squeaking and squirming as they suckled at her belly. The children had remained despite her growling dismissal, clearly too young to understand that she wished to be alone. Sometimes Lachesis would drop by and relieve her of their presence, looking more sallow and ghostly than the dead pups he ushered away.
The only ghost who had not yet dropped by was Maksim himself.. Perhaps he was awaiting the arrival of the living pups, his grandchildren. Karina’s milk had been flowing for almost half a moon now, but since then there had been no other sign of parturition. It had been long enough for the apprentice medic to know that something needed to be done to induce labor. She could not remember speaking the words aloud—at least to anyone living—but the correct herbs had appeared at the mouth of her den the evening before. As her contractions began, the whimpering echoing from her chamber no doubt signaled to the dwellers of Zephyr Rill that her time had come, but her snarls prevented any curious outsiders from intruding.
She labored through the night, snarling at every shadow that darkened the mouth of her den—no ghost or living wolf was allowed to assist or comfort her, this was her punishment well deserved. The sun breaking over the horizon cast a dim light into her den, heralding the arrival of the dragon hatchlings. Hatchling after hatchling emerged from her womb, cold and lifeless. Karina licked and nudged each body dutifully before pushing the corpse to the mouth of the den for disposal. They weren’t survivors, Karina told herself, They weren’t dragons. When the final pup emerged as still as all the others, panic choked at the would-be mother. She licked vigorously at the child—a little girl, black as night—and cried tears of relief when the newborn let out a strained squeak. “My little dragon,” Karina cooed affectionately, voice barley a whisper. She nudged Kisla’s ghost-pups aside so the newest addition could have room to nurse, and then laid her weary head upon the cool soil of the den. Sleep came a mere instant later, plunging her into dreams harboring the same memories and ghosts that haunted her waking hours.
Karina could not stand the guilt. She should have been at Maksim’s side every day for the last three months, and instead she had defied her parents’ explicit command to embark on a hopeless mission. She returned home pregnant and shamed... she hoped that Maksim had been sick enough to have been spared that bit of information. And so she punished herself, curling up in her den in Zephyr Rill to mourn alone. Ghosts and darkness were her only companions, and they were all she deserved. Occasionally Kjors would appear and curl around her, or press some food upon her, but he had long since given up on trying to make her speak. Karina ate only out of duty to the hatchlings in her womb, and every bite roiled her stomach, threatening to reappear. More often than Kjors, her companions were memories—and the more Karina sank into despair and went without sustenance, the more corporal these companions became.
The doe would not join Karina in the den (crawling underground was unnatural for deer) but occasionally poked her worried head down into the priestess’s chamber. After a few days, ghosts from the past had begun to visit her, to shake their heads and shame her with growls and frowns. Davin and his lost family had visited, and the heartbreak in his silver eyes as he gazed upon her distended belly was more than Karina could stand. She had chased those shades away with a growl. Minka and Tokino joined her every now and then, along with Kova.. they were more polite guests at least, attempting to sooth Karina with reassurances that Maksim had joined The Mother’s pack and was happy. She had also been visited by a lovely woman with the same sage green eyes as her mother. Even Kisla’s two stillborn pups from last spring had appeared, squeaking and squirming as they suckled at her belly. The children had remained despite her growling dismissal, clearly too young to understand that she wished to be alone. Sometimes Lachesis would drop by and relieve her of their presence, looking more sallow and ghostly than the dead pups he ushered away.
The only ghost who had not yet dropped by was Maksim himself.. Perhaps he was awaiting the arrival of the living pups, his grandchildren. Karina’s milk had been flowing for almost half a moon now, but since then there had been no other sign of parturition. It had been long enough for the apprentice medic to know that something needed to be done to induce labor. She could not remember speaking the words aloud—at least to anyone living—but the correct herbs had appeared at the mouth of her den the evening before. As her contractions began, the whimpering echoing from her chamber no doubt signaled to the dwellers of Zephyr Rill that her time had come, but her snarls prevented any curious outsiders from intruding.
She labored through the night, snarling at every shadow that darkened the mouth of her den—no ghost or living wolf was allowed to assist or comfort her, this was her punishment well deserved. The sun breaking over the horizon cast a dim light into her den, heralding the arrival of the dragon hatchlings. Hatchling after hatchling emerged from her womb, cold and lifeless. Karina licked and nudged each body dutifully before pushing the corpse to the mouth of the den for disposal. They weren’t survivors, Karina told herself, They weren’t dragons. When the final pup emerged as still as all the others, panic choked at the would-be mother. She licked vigorously at the child—a little girl, black as night—and cried tears of relief when the newborn let out a strained squeak. “My little dragon,” Karina cooed affectionately, voice barley a whisper. She nudged Kisla’s ghost-pups aside so the newest addition could have room to nurse, and then laid her weary head upon the cool soil of the den. Sleep came a mere instant later, plunging her into dreams harboring the same memories and ghosts that haunted her waking hours.
(This post was last modified: May 30, 2016, 01:38 PM by Karina.)
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