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Scattered Clouds, 51.8 ° F, 11 ° C
She had settled here a few weeks ago, not inclined to travel much further as her sides still swelled and her body changed. It was all...very jarring. The way her stomach hung with teets and how she had to make sure that any den she created was big enough for her to fit into. Instinct drove her to chase off anything that came too close to the little area she had claimed for herself. Eating was hard more often than not and as such, the pregnancy took its toll on her. Sucked the nutrients from her own body for whatever it was that grew inside of her.
Each day it felt a little bit worse than the last. Although it wasn't really that way. It was mainly all the anxieties that swelled her mind akin to her form. What would she do? How many were there? What if they didn't make it?
She was ashamed to say the last thought lingered the most. The thought that...maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Could she truly care for multiple crying mouths? No. No and she could hardly imagine herself caring for just one or two. She had no support system and neither would they outside of herself. A thought that ached her to her core.
Soon enough the day came and the pain was a slow creep into the unbearable. It had started the night before. The occasional pain that pulsated her lower half in discomfort. Then agony. She laid awake in her den into the early morning. The sun had not yet peeked through the sky as her body told her it was time. There was no denying it as she lapsed into instinct alone. The need to push out everything that had latched itself to her. Out, out, out -- all of her demanded. Mind and body.
There was one that came out silent, but with some licks and rousing to her side, it cried with life. Before it hushed as she tried to prompt it to latch onto a teet. Which was a bit of a battle, but with time it worked.
There was another, as silent as the one before. Yet no amount of licking and prodding seemed to summon life to its form. Still and silent as the world outside her den. Colors indistinguishable from the one that lived at her side. Was it a son or a daughter? Did she need to know? The answer was swiftly no. It needed no names, it needed no recognition. It was undeniably not as important as the one that still occasionally cried when it lost its grip on its food.
That was the one that beckoned all of her attention from now on. The one that would live to see the sun rise, even if he could not see it. A son who remained unnamed. If he lasted, she would need to find something for him. But tonight his own messy noises and squirming was enough of a proclamation of his existence.