burn my lungs and curse my eyes
The young and expecting mother had taken much care into setting up her own birthing den. She would line like her mother had her own as she took on the tradition of preparing herself for the life she was about to bring into the world. It was more prominent and necessary with the separation she knew existed between her and the rest of the pack, excluding her mate. Every so often she would find herself stopping because of the pain that would sear through her stomach as one of the rascals, or both, kicked at her fragile stomach. She knew that soon she would deliver them and she was scared, even terrified. What if she was not a good mother? She had never been the best at expressing her emotions and often became confused with them herself.
She would gulp, knowing that the only wolf she had specifically told about the location of the birthing den was Ace. Phineas would be too busy with the other woman, the one who’s scent she could smell changing on the wind just as her own had. She did not have time or patience to care. The only thing that ran through her mind was if this woman dared challenge her for her crown, she would put the woman in her place. She had promised to turn the crown down to an Argyris child, but she did not promise to give it to a mistress. She tried her best to remove these sullen thoughts from her mind as she curled up in the comfortable and quiet setting. Soon, she would crave sleep just as her mother had.
The large framed woman’s stomach made her feel as if she would fall over just by walking. There was no way there was only one pup in there… right? Aesire nuzzled her stomach with her nose as her head rested on her paws. It was all hitting her very fast… she was going to be a mother.