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PRIVATE, because Cwmfen doesn’t like crowds, OuO
Onus first, then Cer and Alexey can enter when/if you can~
700+
The night was cool, and the warrior did not sleep through the night. A dull and insistent ache had grown within her lower back, a strange and persisting pain that urged her to move. Although she had not walked more than she was accustom to these days, the black fae considered the possibility of her having pushed herself more than she should have. The weight of the litter within her had grown heavy, and she had increasingly decreased the distance she traveled each day. But the dull aching that she was experiencing wasn’t what provoked such wakefulness. It was something else, something that the woman could not place. Oberon’s Spring laughed merrily as she passed, and a soft sigh was given in return, a simple note in the symphony of the world.
Her mind dwelt upon the short Dreaming that had been brought upon the Raven’s wing. A wren could be heard singing—she could hear it.... It was somewhere near. And the Raven Warrior had followed the song that did not sing for her but for another, finding it in the lush, green glade of dawn. There were two, a mating couple, and she watched it from afar, a light within her soul that before had been lost in the soot of days past. The light was golden once more, and a soft laughter danced upon the air as the golden leaves of autumn. A pied Raven descended, dipping into their presence. And he swallowed them whole, the song of the wren of her ancestors falling silent. And it was upon this that the warrior dwelt. But Death was not dying. Death was rebirth as well. It was Life.
There was a sharp intake of air laced with a cry of pain, quiet despite the silence. A wilder light flickered and was kindled within that white gaze. Leaning forward to prevent herself from collapsing against the unfamiliar pain and the weight of her womb, the warrior leaned against a tree, her arm wrapped about the natural pillar of the earth. The other wrapped itself firmly about her belly, a small grunt emitted as another wave of pain gripped her, disturbing the tranquility with insistent ripples. A rush of water spilt from her, dampening the earth and the leaves as the tears of the heavens. But this was no rain. Instinctually, her breathing changed, those trained reactions rising forth to allow her life. Her jaws parted to breathe the cold, damp air, and the trees whispered and sang.
The Raven called.
The woad-marked wolf knew what was happening. Instinct told her what was happening. They were ready to come. The soft whisper of a Raven’s wing urged her forward, and the warrior pushed herself from the support of the tree. There was determination within her, and she was determined to return to her den. And yet, the warrior was not sure if she could make it. The waves of labor slowed her progress until eventually she could proceed no further. She thought that she could hear the soft, mirthful laughter of the stream, but her racing heart made her deaf. The black fae knelt upon the soft earth, the urgency of her state unable to be ignored any longer. But the warrior struggled—how did the human’s birth. A wolf could lay upon her side, and yet she was no longer wearing that shape. Concentration grew increasingly difficult. Thought grew more difficult to form. And so she stopped. With a deep breath, she made calm her mind. She couldn’t do this alone. There was too much uncertainty.
The woad bound maw rose up as her voice was raised in song, a true song of the wolf, a song of calling. The voice was low, rising slowly with an otherworldly fluidity. The song rose upon the air like the quiet breeze of the north. Onus. Then, abruptly, unnaturally, the howl ended. Another wave of pain interrupted the voice prematurely. And then another wave. Another cry threatened forth, this time with insistence, but the warrior remained silent, unwilling to disturb the night even now. Her mind slipped into a feral state, a wild light gleaming in those white eyes. For a brief moment, there came no contraction, but the relief was short-lived and a grunt was emitted as the warrior’s body shifted, her hand still wrapped about the womb as if the lives within required her secure hold. The other was braced against the earth, her mind torn between remaining upright and lying upon the earth. Her laboring body was not yet commanding her. They were not coming—not quite. But they prepared for the coming even before the grey of predawn had illuminated the darkness. Already, Lughnasadh had come.
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Onus had traveled outside of the Dahlian lands, though not too far. He had promised Cercelee to be little more than a shadow in her lands, and he was doing his best to keep that promise. Thankfully so far there had been no unpleasant run-ins with a certain brown male. He wondered how the brute had reacted when his superior had informed him that she had overturned his decision. An almost invisible smile of satisfaction appeared on his maw at the picture formed in his mind. The karma of Haku trying to force a wedge between him and his lover had come back to bite him in the ass. It was no more than the bastard deserved. The coyote wasn't one for petty games (though he didn't consider any of this a game) but unfortunately he could take no action against the criminal. Such was the price of his love for Cwmfen. While he might have begrudged it at times, it was a price he was willing to pay. She was more than worth it.
His hands were, as usual, tucked neatly in the pockets of his trench coat. He walked with no particular destination in mind, simply to walk and try to clear his mind of the worries that plagued it. Soon the litter that Cwmfen carried would be born. Somehow the question if they would be malformed in any way popped into his head. He had read that incest could produce such things. Something about the genes of dame and sire being too similar. Nature's way of condemning such unions. With a grunt the coyote shook his head. No. He went on these walks to clear his head, not dwell upon the ugly consequences of what had happened. Of course these walks didn't always help, but he did his best to empty his mind upon them. It helped him stay sane and not lose himself in the despair that threatened to swallow him. Onus was trying to live in the moment, as she had advised him to, but it was difficult.
It seemed that he had finally quieted his relentless thoughts when a call as clear as crystal split the night air. Immediately his feet stopped and his ears strained. Cwmfen. She was calling for him. Then, not a second later, that call broke off. But it was not the natural decrescendo of most wolf calls. It was if her voice had been cut off by something. The hair on the back of his neck rose and his blood ran cold inside his veins. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew that that forthcoming event was now upon them. With a sharp intake of breath he turned and began to run as quickly as he could back in the direction of his love. All concern for stealth and subtlety was abandoned. Right now all that mattered was reaching her and reaching her quickly.
His panting breath and pounding heart filled his ears as he ran. His nose worked in overtime, picking up her scent and letting it lead him to her. She was not at the den, not quite. Everything seemed so dark to his eyes, even as the dawn was slowly seeping light into the world, but then finally he caught a flash of blue markings. "Cwmfen!" he called out, alerting her to his presence before he reached her. Onus began to slow his pace so he would be able to stop in time. As he reached her kneeling, bent over form her knelt beside her. His hands quickly undid his coat and cast it aside with his scarf and hat. He was too hot, body overheated from the run and the adrenaline surging through his system. The man refrained from touching her however, not entirely sure if he should. "What do you need?" he asked, doing his best to keep his fear from his voice.
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<3
700+
This pain was unfamiliar, and it was not a pain allowing her to remember that she was alive. It was not the pain wrought of weapons. Nor was it the burn of overworked muscles. Her body was moving inside, and the lives were moving too. Cwmfen was not in control of her muscles, and they moved on their own. But she let them, knowing that it was something older than the wolf itself that guided her now. She didn’t know what she had to do, but she knew that she would do it. Occasionally, in the silence marred only by her breathing, a soft grunt would be emitted, cutting the air harshly with intangible jaws. He will come, she told herself. The black fae knew that he would come because he had promised her. And, if only with him, she did not wish to be alone with these things wrought of darkness. Content as she was in the bearing of these lives, this was a place in which she knew nothing. The world before her was bleak with uncertainty, and she wanted to tread carefully.
Somebeast approached.
Woad-bound aurals did not press forward offensively but flattened in defense. The heightened senses of the wolf could hear the movement through the trees, the approach undisguised and confident. And the pregnant fae grew hostile, the belligerent nature rising up like the waves of the omnipotent sea. The wolf snarled loudly in the night. She was vulnerable, and it was likely that she would not be able to ward off an attack, but she snarled in challenge nevertheless. Already her mind, clouded by feral instinct, had forgotten the call that had been sent into the air. The warrior snarled again, her jaws snapping in the air audibly with unspoken threat.
Suddenly, the snarls ceased, her face smoothed as water by the ripples having been stilled. Her woad-banded ears lifted as if in relief at the sound of a familiar voice calling a familiar name. Her name. And the clouded eyes were cleared. "Onus," she managed to call through her labored and yet even breathing, but the silver melody was quiet and was lost in the silence. Her mind did not doubt that he would find her. And he did. She heard him and smelled him, but her eyes were focused upon the earth as her mind was focused upon her task. Her mind internalized the involuntary contractions her body performed, listening to the red and yellow sounds of her muscles and finding no danger. The sound of the coyote’s discarded clothing broke through her submerged mind once more. "They’re ready," the quiet song explained swiftly, too breathless to say more. Her gaze lifted slowly as her fingers gripped her belly. And the warrior wanted to make the contact, but she couldn’t. Cwmfen’s body wanted only to do what was necessary.
"I need—" She paused, her jaws clenching against another contraction and her breath releasing swiftly. "—to get back to the oak tree." To get back to my den. And that was all that she knew. Instinct was all that she had to guide her, and, at the moment, instinct bid her to return. She would not be able to go inside to birth, but there was that urgent need to be there where she should have given these lives into the world. And it was so near, but she could not reach it. Her legs would not respond, and her body did not want to walk. "I can’t—" A quiet grunt interrupted her words once more, but even as the contraction subsided, she did not continue. The black fae thought that he may be able to know what those words implied, and the two were sufficient in the supplying of such meaning. At the moment, the lives that desired now to be delivered into the world moved within her, and the wordless wolf rose up to the insistency of such a task. Lay down. The arm that held up her form buckled, lowering her form to rest upon her elbow. Not yet. But things were happening so much faster and so much slower than she had anticipated. If she couldn’t reach her den, the glade would suffice. Soon, such things would not matter.
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Honestly, Onus barely noticed the snarls and snaps that Cwmfen displayed before he called out to her. Too much was flying through his mind and he was too focused on simply getting to her. Even if the demon-ghost of Corvus Vendetta himself stood in his way he would have just run past him, barely registering its presence. Even if she had not said that it was time he would have known. Everything else told him it was time. The tension in the air, the way her body was acting, the scents that came to his nose. All of it told him that now was the time, and the man was terrified. He had read how hard the birthing process could be on the mother. Before their "modern medicine" it had many females in mortal danger. So much could go wrong.
She wanted to be back near her den. The coyote's head rose up and surveyed the area. They were close, but not close enough for his liking. Onus was strong, but he wasn't sure he was up the task of carrying her any distance in this state. What if she moved involuntarily and slipped from his grasp? No, it was too much of a risk. He wanted to comply with her wishes, but he would not endanger her any more than she already was. Wordlessly for a moment he shook his head. "No...it's too far. I don't want there to be any accidents." If she were to get angry with him then so be it, but he would not move her. Something told him that she needed to stay here, stay still. Jaws clenched as fell to rest upon one of her elbows.
He was still fearful of touching her. There was too much he was uncertain of and he didn't want to bring her any sort of anxiety. There was enough happening to her right now. "P-perhaps you should lay down..." He thought he vaguely remembered reading that that was how human females gave birth, laying on their backs. What could he do? He felt so useless! He wanted to ease her pain but he knew there was nothing he could do. All they could do was sit and wait. "Is there anyone you want here? For me to call for?" Maybe there was someone close to her, someone in the pack who knew more about these things. Someone who would be able to coach her through it. Onus wasn't sure, but he needed to do something.
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500+
The masked man’s reply elicited a wordless respsonse: a quiet growl of protest. Instinct did not care about accidents. Instinct cared only of what it was bidden. And instinct wanted the warrior to give these lives in the safety of a den. It was instinct that glared up at him through those white orbs, her head lifting viciously, although it was only her eyes that shone with her ferocity. Yet, once several moments had passed, she gave resigned breath, the ferocity fading from those colourless eyes that shone in the half-light of the coming dawn. The glade was fine, she admitted, because the heavens could watch what they had wrought. And there would be no danger because Onus had come. But to the warrior, his suggestion of laying down seemed strange, although she did so nonetheless. Slowly, Cwmfen lowered herself, rolling onto her back with a soft grunt.
"Alexey," she breathed, "or the Rosea." She did not know whether they would come, but he could call them. None of the females that she had named had borne pups, but they were far more familiar with such processes than the warrior. The black fae lay her head back against the soft foliage, and soft moan of her discomfort sounded. "Dahlia has—" She took several breaths before being able to continue. "—no healer." It was a dangerous thing to be lacking, but it was too late to consider such things for herself. She had always been fine without a healer—save for those two instances in which she required stitching. Cwmfen took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, to let her body relax despite the growing pain between her legs. But her efforts were in vain. The coherent thought, hidden now in the back of her mind thought: What if I should not be calm, for chaos now must form order in the birthing of these lives.
Her jaws clenched, snapping shut as if she sought silence. But in the end, the silence could not be kept, and short cry cut through the air. The white orbs shut tightly as her back arched, the force within her pulling her up on her elbows. On either side, her hands grasped the green foliage as if she sought to strangle some long-sought foe. They are coming. They are coming. The words repeated were repeated within her mind as a new pain burst within her. Soon, soon we will need to help them, instinct whispered back. Her eyes opened and her body relaxed, knowing that that pain would return and that it would only grow until the lives within her had been given to the world. Cwmfen brought her legs up, although she did not know why. The warrior did not fear, for she did not think that it was her fate to die giving life but to die taking it. But there was so much uncertainty. And this human shape was uncertain. And her hands that had grasped swords and spears, that were once paws that had carried her across endless ice, moved out, seeking her lover’s hand, to grasp it. Briefly, with obvious effort, she turned to look at him before instinct would take over once more. However helpless he may have felt, she needed him in this.
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The growl hit his ears and he had known that his refusal would illicit some such response. The feral ferocity that illuminated those eyes he loved so much was startling. Those eyes had never looked at him in that way. For a moment or two he wondered if she would snap at him, though he did not move to avoid anything of the sort. But then her sigh drifted into the air and it was clear she resigned herself to staying put. That was a relief. As much as he wanted to fulfill her needs and make her comfortable, he would not put her life in jeopardy. He did not know if moving her would do that and he was not about to take that chance.
He took in the names she told him. He had never met or heard of Alexey, but that was no matter. He would call for this woman nonetheless. Though at the news that Dahlia had no healer another bought of fear grabbed his chest. How could such a large pack house no one gifted in the healing arts? True, he knew some of it, but it was to be used for wounds gained in battle, not for what could happen during childbirth. The coyote didn't even know what could happen to her during childbirth. Regardless he threw back his head and let for that loud, yipping call. That natural way of communicating that was so seldom used by him. But he was able to impart in that call the urgency of the situation at hand. He begged that at least one of the females would come to help.
Then a wave of pain more powerful than the ones before it took her and Onus tensed as he watched her. He was tense to watch the woman he loved in such pain and especially to know that there was nothing he could do to alleviate it. If only I had stayed in the city...if only I had come sooner..." Those hidden eyes clamped shut, trying to force the thoughts that had haunted him since her attack out of his head. They would not help either of them. Yet still...if only he had done those things then she would not be in this pain. She would not be forced to carry this burden and birth these creatures conceived of darkness. But then he felt her hand searching for his and he held it tight, looking into her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be with you until the end." And the man did not mean the end of her labor. He meant until the end of their lives.
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300+
Alexey, for once, sought solitude; this peace of mind, she got until the rising of dawn. As the first rays of sunlight gently bounced off the rippling waters of Oberon’s Spring, her honey-hued gaze dutifully peered off in the distance, where she’d left both Conor and Emwe a few hours prior. Soon they would awaken, which meant she’d have to make it back there relatively quickly. The Caregiver hadn’t meant to wander this far, but something about the crisp morning air was unusual. She’d heard the faintest song moments before, although she couldn’t help but wonder if it had been her imagination playing tricks on her.
Now that she’d travelled further north, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That is, until a stranger’s call beckoned her closer. The howl replayed in the back of her mind, echoing once or twice, as she cautiously ventured forth into the unknown. The gravity of the situation did not immediately dawn on her. Her mind was too focused on the fact that a stranger, a foreign male, had made it this far into Dahlia de Mai. However, when she came to a clearing, everything fell into place. She stiffened momentarily as her eyes of amber located the Adonis lying on her back amongst tall blades of grass. Sheer horror brushed the Acer’s face, for she had not been prepared to find Dahlia’s pillar of strength in such a weakened state.
She took a moment to assess the situation, lingering over the present male, before making her way to the third in command. Through all of her pain and agitation, Cwmfen did not seem alarmed. On the contrary, whoever this male was, she appreciated him enough to let him witness the birth of her children. Alexey found her place at the woman’s side, all the while keeping an eye on the presumed father, as her right hand gingerly brushed a strand of hair away from the Adonis’ face. “Cwmfen.” she murmured, hoping her presence would help soothe the warrior’s worries. For someone who’d been so insecure, Cwmfen was handling herself wonderfully. Instinct had taken over, as Lexey had assumed it would all along.
She’d never once witnessed a Luperci giving birth this way, but it seemed as though the warrior had gotten a general idea of the process by lying on her back and propping her legs up. At this point, there was nothing the Acer could do but watch as life’s greatest miracle unfolded before her. Her duty was to intervene in whatever way possible, should Cwmfen ever need it. And right now, assistance wasn’t needed.
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Here comes the first puppeh, ^=^ It’s Honor, so he’s black with white around his shoulders and chest (like Corvus)
500+
He found her hand, grasping it tightly in his own. Her eyes briefly sought his, her ears straining to hear his voice above the loud sounds of her mind. A soft smile of silver and of gold graced her maw, her jaws parted to drink in the air that for once did not seem to be enough. I’ll stay with you, the white orbs sang. But then her mind receded, slipping back to permit a purely lupine state to overtake her. She fought to keep her breathing level, and she fought to remember to breathe. Such things that had once been effortless seemed to take all the effort of her will, but she made that effort without thought. And as those contractions and those waves of pain grew to near unbearable heights, her grasp upon his hand squeezed tightly. But her mind no longer registered his presence.
The warrior’s vision was narrowed in her concentration. Had she been been alone, her vulnerability would have been complete. But she was not alone. Her hand grasped Onus’ tightly, her grip both a connection and a way in which to relieve the pain. And, although in the latter case her grip did nothing to alleviate such a thing, she continued anyway, unknowing of the strength actually extended to that single hold. Something brushed against her face, and her eyes lifted to see as a soft growl pushed through the laboring breaths. And the laboring female found that the Caregiver had come uttering her name. But she did not respond save with but a brief glance, relieved that she had come. Alexey would know what to do—the warrior was certain of it. And with these thoughts, she slipped back into those throes of instinct, feeling every ounce of strength not her own pushing up against her wishing to be birthed.
Then, suddenly, it was as if the warrior had regained some control. It is time to help them, instinct whispered. And so she did, and the world around her became insignificant and the two creatures with her were forgotten. The laboring fae pushed, aiding the lives in their need to be released. She exhaled and inhaled, her breath sharp as if there were not enough time for such a thing. And she pushed. A harsh intake of the cool, night air was taken as water is taken by the parched land. And she pushed, forcing them from her and ending in a short, sharp cry of pain and relief both. She could feel it—a life had been given into this world by her womb. There was a brief smile that graced her maw, and, although she wished to look upon the life she had given, she could not. Although she wished to lick and clean and encourage the life to persevere, she could not. Already, the another was trying to emerge. Beads of perspiration dampened her fur and darkened the woad, but her eyes gleamed with that feral determination to complete what two moons had created.
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[html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... ppachi.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> puppeh! 
In that brief moment that their eyes locked he smiled softly back at her. In that moment, he believed that just maybe everything would be okay. That what was happening would not bring the darkness over them that he feared it would. But then the pains of her labor overtook her again and she was consumed in what was occurring in her body. That smile, hardly perceptible in the first place, vanished and that neutral expression was back. Her harsh breathing filled his ears and while his hand felt some discomfort from the strength of her grasp upon it, he made no reaction to it. If that was what she needed of him then that is what he would give.
If he had not called for anyone the sounds of another approaching would have instantly set him in defensive mode. For right now he was her only defense. The only barrier between her and whatever would wish to do her harm. But he faintly smelled the scent of another female and so he was not concerned. While it was not the scent of Cercelee he judged that it must be the other woman that Cwmfen had asked him to call. The other approached with great caution but finally took a place on the opposite side of his lover. He spared the woman a quick glance, and was thankful for her presence here, but that was all. His focus was entirely upon Cwmfen, though he could sense the somewhat suspicious eyes of the one who had joined them.
Then, as if through the connection of their hands, he sensed a change in her. He felt her energy being used not only to breath but to aid in the delivering of the lives within her. With his free hand he gently stroked the back of the hand the clung to him. Onus had no idea if that was in any way a help to her, but it was all he could think of to do. Tension filled moments passed and then with a cry from Cwmfen he heard something slide into the grass from between her legs. And suddenly the fear was back. His hidden gaze looked to where the pup would be, but his vision of it was blocked. As curious as he was to look upon this thing that had come from her he could not find the will to move. That, and he had no idea what to do about the pup that had been birthed. All the coyote did was stare and continue to hold her hand.
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300+ Let me know if you want anything changed. :3
Had they met under different circumstances, Alexey would’ve been a little less suspicious. She too, was wary of those she did not know; especially when one of her leaders (and Dahlia’s only warrior) was unable to stand her ground. But she’d caught the exchanged glances between them, and the harder she looked, the more obvious it became. There was something about them, and it was pure. Love radiated from his every move. The Caregiver’s gaze softened gradually, until uncertainty was nothing but a distant feeling. Perhaps in due time, she would even find it in her to trust the male.
It was the subtle change in Cwmfen’s behavior that brought her back to reality. Honey-hued eyes did not leave the birthing mother’s face. Inhales were observed meticulously. The Adonis’ breaths became sparse, quicker: pushing had become her top priority. Alexey had noticed similarities in Firefly’s behavior just before the Lilium's children had been granted the gift of life. At this point, Lexey couldn’t quite remember who'd come out first, Emwe or Conor. What she did remember was the inanimate form that came after them. The child’s body had been cold and distorted; a horrific sight Alexey would never forget.
Cwmfen’s cry reverberated in the atmosphere, causing the Caregiver’s ears to flatten against her skull. She waited silently, a few seconds at most, evaluating both the mother and father to be. Understandably, the Adonis did not have time to care for her firstborn pup, seeing as there was another already on its way. And the coyote, in spite of all his good intentions, seemed rather clueless. The Koios girl left her leader’s side, repositioning herself where the puppy lay in a puddle of blood and birthing fluids. She hesitated briefly, unsure how Cwmfen would react to her sudden involvement.
In order to breathe, the puppy had to be liberated from the amniotic sac. Lexey, who was quite inexperienced herself, did not know how long a puppy could remain in the translucent envelope without risking death. Hence why she did not wait any longer. Cautiously, without the use of her claws, she tore at the membrane and removed the child’s head from its confinement. Her hand reached for the male’s scarf (unfortunately for him, the nearest cloth she could find) and with it, she removed the majority of the amniotic fluid from the child’s face. “Oh Cwmfen, he’s beautiful.” she murmured, encouraging the mother to persevere.
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The second pup is a fraternal twin, and is a girl, ^=^ And she has coyote colours that darken to a black on her back and tail. And Cwmfen is only having two pups, no stillborns or anything, ^=^~
700+
The slight pause that had existed between the expulsion of the first and the laboring over the second had made exhaustion evident to the black fae, but she did not relinquish in her efforts. And still there had not been enough time between the first life and the life of the second yet to be given. That guiding voice of instinct had moved her to go to the care of the pup that lay still within the sac upon the soft foliage, but it had been silenced by continuing contractions. While events occurring about her had little consequence upon the expelling of the second life, had Alexey not been present, the life of the first may have been lost. Amidst the ending of one push and the beginning of another, the Caregiver’s voice was brought to her on the brightening air of dawn. Briefly the laboring fae was able to feel relief, for, to her, beautiful meant that the pup was not deformed and would have a chance to be strong, to survive against the forces of nature. As the woad-marked woman rest her head upon the earth, she looked up to Onus without the frosty, feral fog of a primeval wolf, a faint smile flickering there and a quiet curiosity too.
The warrior undertook the same strategies she had utilized in the whelping of the first, but the life did not come as quickly. Perhaps it was that exhaustion that was so unlike the exhaustion of other worldly phenomena, but life came more slowly. Gathering her thoughts above the primeval mind, she drew her will about her, determined to deliver the life without incident. And with a final exertion, her efforts and pain soundless now, the second life finally slid from her body. But her body was not yet done, and she worked still without pause to expel the two placentas that had nourished the lives within her. The woman felt her body move inside, as if things that had been out of place were returning to their original shape. A quiet breath was released by the woad bound maw as her body was permitted to relax. The white orbs closed as if to gather her mind, to quiet the needless ferocity within her for she was among those that cared, and they would not hurt her. Cwmfen’s grasp on Onus’ hand loosened, her breathing growing quiet once more. She could hear the night air, and she could hear it leaving as dawn rose. And she could feel the glowing light of dawn and the rays diluted by the thick foliage of the old forest.
Hardly any time had passed since the whelping when the warrior, her muscles completely laxed, underwent the change. The body of a woman became the body of a wolf. Full exhaustion set in, the trembling of her body apparent only through touch. But she did not yield. With that ethereal grace that rarely was absent, she lifted her head, her eyes opening as she looked briefly to Onus, although the peculiarity of their different shapes was not apparent to the wolf. Turning her body, she twisted to find the second pup, tearing as Alexey had the sac. Briefly, she beheld the first pup already having been freed and offered a short but deep bow of thanks. Gently, she licked the pup clean, allowing her to breathe. And with the quiet urgings of instinct receding to the back of her mind, she cleaned the place of birthing as well, devouring the sacs and chords and placenta, absorbing the nutrients of her own blood in the way she was meant to. And only then did she return to the pups, laying at their side so that they may drink and feed and be warm, her maw lowering to lick them, to stimulate them.
But she paused, the woad bound maw lifting as the white eyes beheld both. A male and a female. But that was not had made her still. The warrior’s heart quivered with the impact of what she saw: the male’s colouring. Like a pied crow. Immediately, she turned to look at Onus once more, a flicker of uncertainty and confusion, perhaps even awe, passing those eyes. But there was something else. The second pup, the female. Her colouring was not of her own, nor of her father or mother, or of any wolf. The colouring belonged to a coyote. These pups did not belong to the crow wolf. These pups belonged to Onus.
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Onus watched the other woman move to where the first born child was laying in the grass. This whole thing was something entirely unknown to him. He knew nothing of birth and what the newborns required. Curiously he watched her tear open the sac the pup was in and then begin to clean it with (what he didn't realize) was his scarf. Even if he had realized it he wouldn't have protested. It was obviously something that needed to be done. Despite the fear he held of what the pup could become, he wished the small thing no harm now. Eyes darted back to his lover and saw that smile upon her features. She was happy, and for her happiness he was happy. Though much apprehension still haunted his thoughts and feelings.
It took longer for the next pup to be born, but it still seemed to happen so quickly to the male. No doubt it was seeming a long and arduous process for Cwmfen however. The strength needed in this task was obviously tremendous, and it was a strength he was not familiar with. It was not really of the muscles, at least not the ones he had spent his life concerned with. After the second was born there seemed to be a bit more struggle and then she was permitted to relax. Two then. Two pups she had given birth to. Two seemed a manageable number to the coyote. Certainly much better than say four or more. As her grip on his hand was released he rubbed her fingers gently. It was only now that he began to feel the soreness from the strength of her grasp, but he made no outward sign of noticing.
He watched, somewhat amazed, as the Cwmfen he was used to melted into her more natural form. Onus was not even familiar with the shifting of his own body, never changing from his bipedal form, so to witness it firsthand was something that sent a sort of spell over him. Then she turned to administer to the lives she had brought into the world. At first he watched on with fascination, as if he were watching some ancient, secret ritual (and in a way he was), but soon a sort of embarrassment came over the male and he averted his gaze from the females and newborns. He stared off to the side for a few minutes before his senses told him that it was alright to look again.
The man looked at his lover and the two small bodies that lay next to her's. The first thing that immediately drew his gaze was the coloring of the male pup and he felt his stomach drop. It was an exact replica of Corvus. Sensing his thought the scarring on his neck and shoulder twitched and his hand went up to feel the misshapen area. Dark thoughts clouded his mind until almost inadvertently his gaze fell on the second child. Onus' brows knit together as he looked at her. Her coloring was familiar, but not because it belonged to either Cwmfen or the crow wolf. It was what he saw in his own reflection. The man's jaw dropped open and his mouth was left agape. Dumbfounded he looked to Cwmfen. His mouth moved as if to form words but nothing came out. Why does it look like me? The pups couldn't belong to him...could they?
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Her statement had the desired effect on the birthing mother. When a smile of relief crossed Cwmfen’s features, the Koios girl allowed a great deal of tension to leave her body. She’d done nothing aside from witnessing the birth of Dahlia de Mai’s second litter, and she felt drained of her energy. It either had to do with fatigue, or the pinch of sadness in her heart. Alexey could not settle on one particular state of mind; there was a storm of emotion surging up within her. Her friend had given birth to two healthy puppies; one male, one female. Everything had gone so smoothly; no stillborns, no complications, and no hemorrhage. This was wonderful news. Not only had Cwmfen handled herself beautifully, but she had also done well by releasing the second puppy from the amniotic sac.
On the other hand, Dahlia’s newest Papavers brought back memories of Conor and Emwe at a time when they’d been only a few days old. How she wished she could’ve known then, all the tragedies that would befall her two protégés. Then perhaps she could’ve done something to save them. Her heart felt heavy with regret. Honey-hued eyes found the coyote’s face just as he looked away from the scene, clearly uncomfortable with his lover’s instinctual behavior. Her attention then returned to Cwmfen, who was already tending to the children by providing warmth, food, and affection. Now, unfortunately, her presence was needed elsewhere. Although she wanted nothing more than to stay until her leader assigned them each with a name, the early rays of daybreak indicated that it was time to go home. The Lilium’s children would soon rise with the sun, and she had to be there.
A glance was spared to the group, lingering briefly over the newborn pups, before she got to her feet and excused herself. “I think you two have things to discuss. I have to make it home before the kids realize I’m missing.” she explained, brushing some dirt off her knees. “I’ll stop by a little later to make sure everything’s okay. Congratulations you two.” There was a moment of silence as she contemplated the pertinence of her next affirmation. She opened her maw to say something but quickly decided against it. It could wait. Without another word, the Caregiver left the new family behind, making her way back home to Flanders Field.
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Cwmfen’s white gaze was locked upon the hidden eyes of the one that she loved. The disbelief was strong within them, for they had never expected to find that the fruit she bore would have been conceived by their love. Onus’ expression held his thoughts openly such was their suddenness, and it struck her then with the force of a fist’s powerful strike. When could this have happened? Perhaps it had been the last time she had lain with him—would that have been near enough? It would have had to been, the woad-marked fae told herself. It was the only practical explanation. But her thoughts were broken by the sudden words of the Caregiver, and she turned to face her, shaking away her awe. "Thank you, Alexey," she offered quietly, and was truly thankful that the golden-eyed woman had been present. Not wishing to keep her from the Lilium’s boys, the Adonis did not stop her and dipped her maw in respectful farewell.
A wren sang. The warrior looked up, finding two small birds above within the trees, engaged in the summer mating. The gods had called her pregnancy a gift, and the Raven too had shown the Dreams of the black hands of the crow wolf unable to touch her womb. The white orbs lowered to the two small creatures that she had given life to, the soft sounds of their mewling tickling her ears as they struggled to drink from her. The feeling of their tiny mouths around her made a soft intake of breath sound. It was an uncomfortable sensation, she decided, but their toothless mouths were gentle still. Slowly, as the silence grew about them and the retreating of Alexey’s departure grew quiet in the distance, the she-wolf’s gaze lifted to find her lover. For a moment longer she was still. "They are yours, Onus," the melody said, at last breaking the silence of their disbelief. A gift these pups had been. She released her breath as a soft, golden smile graced her maw. She had never asked for pups, had never desired them. But that these two belonged to the one that she loved was more than she could have asked for.
Slowly, her woad-marked form shifted, careful so as to not disrupt the efforts of her young and yet protecting them with her body. And then she allowed exhaustion to overtake her, lowering her head to the soft grasses and closing her eyes. Relief could not be the word to describe what it was that she felt moving within her. There was no word that she could find to explain that yellow emotion, yellow like the light of the Lughnasadh dawn. Releasing a quavering breath, she could feel the own trembling of her body, the dull and sharp pain, and the reknewed soreness of her leg. "What shall we name them?" Her voice sang easily now with the songs of the dawn. Her eyes opened, half-lidded in the brightening world, and it seemed as if the whiteness was glowing for the darkness of her fur. While the black wolf did not require names for worldly entities, the luperci understood the importance of such names, believing that somehow the labels would help to shape the minds of the young. "Something from your world, not mine." The world of Caledonia had long been left behind, and the pups would not remember that culture of which they would not be a part.
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It felt as if his brain had been broken and it couldn't process a single thought that went through it. All this time they had both been convinced that the lives she carried had been products of her rape. The only person to have ever suggested otherwise had been Anu. She had questioned if they could be his but he had quickly denied it. For whatever reason, he had thought himself incapable of getting Cwmfen with child. She was in the prime of her life, but he was not. The coyote wasn't exactly old yet, but he was not young either. How could they belong to him? Vaguely he heard the parting words of the wolf named Alexey, but he did not register them. They were only muffled sounds as he continued to stare down at those two tiny bodies.
For a few more moments Onus sat there frozen. His mind raced. If this was true, it must have happened the last time they had been together. That meant that she had already been pregnant when Corvus had attacked her. Now that he really thought about it all, it made sense. For she had known not a day after she had been abused that she was pregnant. From what little he had gathered, such knowledge did not occur so quickly. He tried to remember how long it had been between their last time and the attack but her voice broke through his silent contemplations. They are yours, Onus. As if that were some sort of cue he undid the knot of his eye wrap. He wanted to look at them with his naked eyes. Those dark pools were revealed and he inched closer to Cwmfen and the pups. He looked at their tiny forms and the unmistakable pattern of the girl's fur. They were his.
The male's large ears flicked as he heard his lover's head lay back against the cool earth. He moved to be closer to her, a hand reaching out and resting on her neck. "I can't believe it." He had created life? Never had he imagined that he would have that be something he had accomplished. For the longest time he had never thought to love or be with a woman in that way, and even when Cwmfen had come into his life he had never imagined actually creating life with her. It had been unexpected, but compared to what they had feared, it was a miracle. It was if now the shadow that had hung so heavily over them was banished. Everything the vigilante had feared about these children was gone. For they were not Corvus', they were his.
As she asked what they should be named he turned to look at her half concealed face. "Name them? I...don't know..." What should they name them? They needed to be good names. Names children deserved, not names born out of an unconditional fear as his had been. Though Onus was not good at choosing names. He liked knowing the meaning of names, and for many "normal" names he did not know their meaning. But then two ideas came to him. They were not traditionally used as names, but maybe they would suit. "Maybe Honor, for the boy. Chastity for the girl. What do you think?" He trusted her opinion more than his own.
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His soft touch against her neck was welcomed, his contact greatly desired, and she did not flinch away, perhaps too tired for such a thing. His proximity caused her instinct to grow nervous, but she did not growl or war him away, knowing that she did not need to protect her young from him. She breathed deeply, inhaling his strange and unique scent. And the words of the now unmasked coyote brought a knowing smile upon her quiet lips. "I can’t believe it either," she breathed quietly, "but she doesn’t lie." The female she had whelped was innocent still, her soul clean and unmarred by the troubles of the world. And the black fae wondered why the male had taken Corvus’ coat, but she believed that he, too, held a clean soul. And she was lucky, she thought, that what had happened to her had not harmed them, that the crow wolf had not made his mark upon them as he had upon her.
In the silence that followed the melody of her voice, the black fae resisted the call of sleep, although that call had not yet grown strong. There was a peace that settled through her, the calm after the tempest of the waters in her soul, and yet, it was a peace without war. The white orbs continued to watch the slowly changing light, her body still and unmoving as the pups suckled at her breasts. The sound of the gruff voice caused her ear to swivel back to catch it. Honor and Chastity. The black wolf made a soft sound of agreement. "Those are good names," the soft susurrus sang. Those were good names, and they would encourage great things. The black female liked that the names were not the same as her own, for she did not wish the same fate upon them, nor did she wish the same fate as Onus had suffered upon them. Perhaps these lives could begin with peace and not war. Perhaps these lives would have more purpose and worth than her own.
"How are secondary names created here?" At times, the names seemed to take the father’s second, which was strange to the Caledonian, as her second name told only of her lineage. But perhaps they could take their father’s name, for she wished them to be strong and to survive in the Wild’s life challenge. "Perhaps," the quiet voice suggested, "they can take your second name." Or did he have a second name? The warrior lifted her head, turning so that she could look upon his unmasked face. But the pups stopped drinking, growing tired even as she did. Gently, she turned, her maw lowering as she licked them with her soft touch. Her nose sniffed them silently, remembering their unique scents, and remembering once more that their father was one that she loved.
"They are beautiful," the quiet song whispered as she looked down at them, a quiet, tranquil smile gracing her maw as it had not done in many moons. Their sleeping forms were gently breathtaking, and the new mother watched them for several moments. She turned to look upon Onus, a soft love upon her features. Soon, she would want to move them to her den, but for a moment, she would let the pups rest, and she would let her body rest, too.
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It was true. The coloring of that little pup did not lie. He had never seen any pure wolf with that pattern to their coat. How much this changed things. Before, while he had been willing to do whatever he could to help raise the pups, he doubted he would ever consider himself an actual father to them. It was not out of some sense of not being able to care for those not descended from his blood, but just for the fear he had had of them being like the crow wolf. If he had ever needed to do something to move against them, then he would need that emotional barrier to allow himself to act as he must. But these pups were of his body, and so the potential for darkness had become minimal. Of course every creature had that potential, but his hope for these young lives was now much higher.
Onus could feel how weary she was and knew that she would need to sleep soon. No doubt she would want to return to her den as well. Once she did he would take a perch up in the tree where he would still be able to watch over her, but would not be in her way or in the way of the members of Dahlia. Few wolves ever thought to look up in the trees, so unless they caught his scent, he should go completely unnoticed. As she agreed with the names that he had suggested a soft smile worked its way onto his face. Maybe he wasn't a complete loss. They were two ideals that the man held high, though he did not always adhere to them himself. If it came down to it he would fight dirty to do what needed to be done. His enemies would do the same. But he wanted these children to have better lives. More normal lives. The kind of lives that young ones deserved to have.
"You mean surnames? Here there are usually family names. Pups usually carry the family name of either mother or father." That much he did know. It had never occurred to him before how differently Cwmfen was named. It hadn't been of any consequence until now. When she suggested they take his, he realized that he had never told her his full name. It hadn't been important, for he never went by it. "Onus is my second name. My given name is Jet." But would it be weird for the pups last names to be the same as what he went by as his first? Would that put them in too much danger? "I don't know if Onus is actually a family name or not. But they don't both need to take my name. At least one of them should take a name from your culture." He was not comfortable in naming them both with his name. One, for their safety, and two they were as much if not more her children. Onus was warming to the parent idea, but he knew he did not feel it as strongly as she did.
At her words he looked back down at them as well. He had never been enamored with pups before, and didn't understand the way in which a parent felt towards their offspring. But now he was beginning to understand, and he did feel a deep connection to those two small creatures. "They are," he agreed. Then the man looked to her and saw a more pure smile on her face than had been present there for these many weeks. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, smiling as he did.
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A soft nod was given. Surname, she repeated silently. That was the proper word. And the woad bound ears listened as she lay in her stillness. The idea of a family name was foreign to the Caledonian-Korean, for, within her mother’s lands, the second names, the surnames, were not constant, revealing only who the mother and father were. And yet, this new system seemed logical as well. And she drank in his words silently, meticulously forcing her mind into motion and out of her weariness. But when she revealed that Onus was his second name, her eyes turned to find him. "Jet," she repeated, her tongue forming the unfamiliar name, holding it thoughtfully, brooding upon it. That name was much harsher than ‘Onus’, short and abrupt, like an arrow. "Jet Onus," the quiet voice called, a soft smile moving her lips, and it was as if in the knowing of his full name she knew something more of him. But she tucked his first name away in her heart as if it were a secret.
"Onus will more than suffice in their naming," the soft song countered, the susurrus stepping with dancing feet upon the morning air. Her eyes smiled as they caught the light that escaped the obscuring clouds, and she turned to look upon their young. Their naming must be carefully chosen, but already she knew how the names should flow: father to his son and mother to her daughter. "Honor Onus," the soft melody called, the woad-banded maw lowering to gently lick and softly nuzzle her son. With ceremony, she did the same for her daughter, callin, "Chastity nic Cwmfen." Each name was tested upon her own tongue, weighing each and growing familiar to their shape. Cwmfen nic Graine was satisfied with the naming of the pups, and the singing wrens, too, were satisfied as their song retreated into the distant forest.
The warrior watched their forms, marveling at how small they were, for surely they had caused her much effort and pain in their bearing. They were so helpless, and both the warrior and the newly awoken maternal instincts bid her to protect these lives even at the cost of her own. And as she looked up to hear his response, that smile upon her face, he kissed her forehead with that gentleness and love. The white orbs closed as she accepted it before she lifted her own maw, nuzzling his neck and licking his ear affectionately before she slid back to rest upon the earth. As her maw lingered fleetingly beneath his, she realized how inadequate those lupine lips were in the forming of a kiss, and she realized how long it had been since she had kissed him. With a soft sigh, she turned her face away, laying once more upon her side within the soft foliage of the old woods.
Once several heartbeats had passed, the black fae released a resolute breath, pushing herself so that her upper torso could sit up. The white orbs beheld the two-egg twins that slept so contently for now against her warm body. "We need to return to the safety of the den," the melody sang as she turned to look upon her lover. "Could you...carry them for me?" The question rang almost tentatively. It would be quicker and safer if both could be carried, and she feared that her jaws would be too cruel upon their fragile, new forms. While she could have shifted herself, she did not have the energy required for such a thing. Onus was the only creature she would have trusted with such a thing—not even the Rosea or the Caregiver would have been allowed near the pups as she was now asking Onus to be. But Onus could be gentle—she had felt his gentleness before. Slowly, her eyes met his, but she did not rise nor move yet from the twins’ side.
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It seemed weird, to reveal his full name, either to her. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable sharing it with her or that he didn't want to, it had just been so many years since he had heard it spoken aloud. After the attack he had always simply referred to himself as Onus. Jet had been the innocent puppy. A puppy just like any other. But during the attack by his mother Jet had died and only Onus had been left. When she spoke that name a quick tic moved across his face. He turned to look at her and was surprised to see that smile on her face. His full name certainly didn't make him smile, but if it brought her some form of happiness he wouldn't begrudge her it.
As she said it would be sufficient he merely shrugged. Onus wished to say more on the topic, but he knew there would be no point to it. Cwmfen would do as she saw fit and he wasn't questioning her judgment. It was only his own insecurities that had lead him to make that comment. His ears pricked when she spoke again, giving voice to the full names of their children. Honor Onus. It did have a certain ring to it, he supposed. Chastity nic Cwmfen. He was glad that she had named the girl in the same tradition as she had been named. It only seemed proper. The coyote's name wasn't the only one that deserved to be carried on. "Good names. I like them." Not that she needed his confirmation, but he thought it would be nice to voice his approval nonetheless.
Her returned affection after he had kissed her head sent a thrill through him. It had been so long since they had really shown one another any kind of affection. She had been dealing with the mental wounds the crow wolf had inflicted upon her and he was unwilling to do anything that would possibly cause her discomfort. Perhaps this good news really had helped things. Of course it didn't change what had been done to her, but maybe now she would be better able to move past it, knowing that her pups were not borne of the seed of her attacker.
When she rose to sit up he knew what she would say before her mouth even opened. Well, at least part of it. He knew that she wished to return to her den. Though when she asked him if he would carry them once again his dark eyes grew wide. Gaze shifted to those two impossibly small bodies. So delicate and fragile. Touching them in any way seemed to be so dangerous. But then he found his voice. "Yes...yes I can carry them." Onus stood up and walked to retrieve his coat, bringing it over to where the pups lay. He bunched the coat up, making a sort of nest for them and then as carefully as he had ever handled anything, he picked Honor up and placed him in the coat. When it seemed that had gone well he breathed a bit more easily and did the same with Chastity. When they were both snug in his trench coat he maneuvered his arms under the fabric so he was cradling them to his chest and then he slowly rose to his feet. With that he looked to Cwmfen, waiting for her to be ready to move.
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There was a subtle relief at Onus’ agreement. The white orbs watched and the wolf was silent. Instinct did not permit other creatures to handle the young as was now being permitted, and a growl threatened upon her throat, but she was quiet. Onus’ gentle care caused a lightness to cross over her features and the tension to leave her body, to be released into the morning air as a sleeper’s breath. How gentle were those hands, the warrior deemed once more, that had killed. And she wondered if her jaws would have been so gentle. She wondered if her jaws would have been as merciful had she lifted those newborn forms. With her exhaustion, the black she-wolf had not desired to test such a thing. And the pups, though they could neither see nor hear, would know their father’s touch and their father’s smell. Cradled against his body and within his coat, the warrior knew that they were safe. The black fae’s smile shone more brightly as he looked down at her, and, slowly, she willed her muscles to move as she rose. A quiet sigh escaped the woad bound maw. She felt lighter without the heaviness within her womb.
Cwmfen was unmoving for a passing moment as she assessed her own health. Despite the exhaustion and the pains remaining from the whelping, everything was once more in place. Once she was satisfied, the black fae pushed her body forward, and she took a step forward before pausing once more. The woad bound maw lowered, scenting the discarded scarf that had been used by the caregiver. She breathed lightly upon it, recognizing that unique scent of her lover through the smells of the strange birthing fluids. And the black wolf did not know whether the male would want the scarf back, but the instinct that urged her to prepare a nest within the den bid her to take it. With the scarf in her jaws, she moved briefly to his hat, carefully lifting it with her front teeth. It was heavier than she had expected—or perhaps she was simply weary. Satisfied, the white orbs looked up at the male, a quiet smile shining within them before she pushed herself into motion.
The woad marked female strode alongside the optime male, her gait easy and not graceless. In her right leg she could feel more acutely the soreness renewed by the changing of her shape. But such a thing was readily managed by the natural shape that she now wore. There was a calmness within her mind at having regained that shape most familiar to her, although it contrasted greatly with the only shape her lover war. Briefly, the white orbs lifted, regarding the male that carried their newborn twins. The black fae wondered, and she wondered what he thought of such a difference. And yet, she was silent once more as her gaze returned to the path ahead, her woad-bound paws carrying her across familiar paths. The woad bound ears were lifted as they listened to the sound of the dawn, the golden light that had graced Honor and Chastity’s birth having grown dim in the clouded heavens. And her tail, lifted as was her regal poise, brushed against his leg, and it was as if she could remember something now that she could not before.
They arrived at her abode, the great oak standing sentinel above. Moving to where her weapons leaned against the tree, she rose up upon her hind legs, placing the hat upon a high root. A front paw pushed against the living wood that sang with amber and jade tones as she landed silently upon the lush foliage that sighed with her passing. The scarf was carried near the mouth of her den where she placed it upon the earth. Turning, a brightness upon her quiet lips, the quiet melody sang, "I will take them inside, if you will bring them to me," the alto voice soft upon the air. The weariness was evident now, if not in her eyes then within her voice. The wolf had not eaten for several days, a thing her body had not required in its preparations for the whelping, but she had enough to feed the pups if only for the several hours she would take to rest. "What is it like," the alto song asked quietly, "to hold them?"
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