Two months of hell were finally coming to fruition when the contractions began in Incus’ stomach. From day one she’d cursed her foolishness and pondered over why she’d been the one punished and not her elder sister who’d also floozed around. She wasn’t ready to be a mother, she knew that. She knew it with every fiber in her being, but there hadn’t been anything she could do about it. She didn’t feel any motherly affection for her unborn pups, but she didn’t hate them either. They hadn’t asked to come into being like this, especially not to her, so she’d steeled herself to be whatever kind of parental figure she ended up as.
But god did it hurt.
She laid gasping in a den she’d hurriedly carved out at the roots of an oak, partially hidden by the bright red ferns that covered the area. A grunt of pain exited her maw as her silver sides rippled and she clenched her teeth to avoid calling out in pain. Never before had she wanted her Mama and Papa more than in that moment as tears pricked her golden gaze.