a whole new world

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Her strident yell was unnecessary but answered all the same; he had been following her, after all. Every day, he stayed near, though he did give her space when it was needed. As long as she stayed within his sight, Stjörnuáti was pacified. At night, he slept next to her, or sometimes just at the mouth of her den, guarding his soon-to-be family.

It was odd, to think of himself as a father; he surely had other children out in the universe as he had always been quite active with women, but there were none that he could truly call his children. These would be the first, and Kajsa, his first...

His thought broke away as he arrived into the den, his head ducking as he stepped over the threshold and went to her side. Stoic as ever, the man lowered his muzzle to cautiously bump it against her own, drawing his tongue across her soft cheek. “Ég er hér... — I am here” His voice was quiet in the den, the scent of birth and blood thick in the air. His tail twitched, his heart thumped, and his mind seemingly quivered with the intensity of the moment.

“What can this one do to help?” Something more than stand here like an idiot, he hoped. But, if that was all she needed, he would continue to be the idiot man standing next to the woman in labor.

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The woman couldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy the attention that the Golden One provided her. It’s something she had been seeking since she first laid her eyes upon him. His personality was different, prickly, but… maybe sincere. If anything, the man was blunt, and she could appreciate that. It made beating around the bush a rash task, and yet it was refreshing. So, throughout this time, Kajsa relished in his undivided attention. Whether it was following her around, keeping her bed warm at night, or guarding the mouth of her home, her… lover… if she could call him that, was always nearby.

Maybe it’s why she felt so uneasy. To have him be so close, to show those signs of affection, and not know her true place. Sure, she had decided to stay and dedicate herself to this pack, to this home. But she didn’t know where she stood with the man who impregnated her. He was attentive for the time being, but what if he decided these pups were not worthy of his title and status? Would they be outcasted? Forced to leave?

Ugh! She couldn’t have doubts now. The woman had made her bed and thus needed to lie in it.

Groaning, beads of sweat slowly bubbled to the surface, slicking down her usual soft fur. The sensation was awful, and she felt horribly sick. Every muscle ached, and she could have sworn she as biting down so hard her teeth would shatter. Who in Gods green Earth thought birth would be this dreadful.

As if the world had herd her despicable pleas, another wave of contracts slithered through her bones. The sensation was wet, like molten hot lava was scorching the very bones that kept her together. Her skin was flush and itched with a ferocity that made her want to sob. Everything was uncomfortable. Everything hurt.

It would be worth it.

A few moments later, the father of their soon-to-be kids popped into her den. His tongue lapped at her cheek, clearing it of any tears that had dribbled from her lash line. “Medicine,” she choked out as Kajsa released a huff. “Something to stop the pain.” Her words were soft, but not gentle. Even from his point of view, the man should be able to tell how rigid the woman was. “If you cannot find, bring a stick. A thick one.” If she could not numb herself, she would rather bite down upon a stick and endure the pain.
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Her request was acknowledged with a quiet sound, another nudge, and an easy step around her. Having somewhat expected this turn of events, Stjörnuáti had built a small stock of herbs and medicines just near the den; a strategic placement, one of many he had made in recent weeks. The stareater had always been something of a planner, even if a bit loosely. He liked to think ahead, and in instances like this, such things served him well. Plus, now there were several caches strewn about the mountainside.

In mere minutes, the soon-to-be father returned to the woman's side, Ladyfern grasped lightly between his teeth and the thick branch that had been requested. He would set it all to the side before he gave her a small amount of the plant he brought. “Chew,” Stjörnuáti instructed, his voice soft in the dark den. “Little for now. If Kajsa's pain is great, this one has more.” It could be a deadly plant after all, and he preferred to administer a small amount at a time.

Only when she swallowed, would he give her the stick to grasp between her teeth. He had attended a childbirth a time or three, enough to not be useless, at the very least.

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The woman was quick to lap up the medicinal herbs. Its bitter bite took the edge off the pain, making the contractions a bit more bearable. In return, Kajsa allowed herself a moment to relax. To seep into the nest she had crafted, to feel the warmth of her den. She also took this small moment to just… appreciate what she had. The silence of the early morning dew, and the gentle breathing of the man besides her. This would be the last moment of peace she knew before welcoming her new family.

Expelling a sigh, the woman took a moment to lazily look up towards the golden man. He remained a pillar in her world, even if he didn’t entirely mean to. The ivory of his pelt meshed seamlessly with the golden flecks that glimmered against the sun. A blinding ray in her rather dull den. A faint smile wisped across her lips as she gazed up at him, almost lovingly. “Thank you,” was all the woman muttered before shutting her eyes.

Peace. Quiet.

Pain.

A sudden and sharp cry was ripped from her lips as her body slowly began to go through the motions of active labor. The tranquil atmosphere shifted as Kajsa squirmed in her spot, her body trying to find the best position to safely deliver her kids. Which egged the question – how many she was having. Parts of her figured she would be having a relatively small litter. Roughly two to four welps. Enough to please her lover, and enough to keep her busy. Any more than that would be well… an interesting dynamic. Especially for a first time family.

Funny how life is full of surprises.

Minute by minute, hour by hour, Kajsa found herself lathered in a thin layer of sweat and other bodily fluids as her body worked to push each of her children out. And one by one, a new life was born. Each pup was the most perfect mixture of the two wolves. Beautifully crafted from the sun and stars – her children resembled marble. Exquisite, divine, and powerful marble. Not even the Gods could have crafted more beautiful children in their image.

Blood oozed from the woman’s body as she would crane her skull back every now and then to move each of the pups closer to her body, allowing them to seek her warmth and food. It was natural. Instinctual, even, for her to do so. She wasn’t moving on her own accord. Her ancestors had fully taken over, giving her the reprieve she needed to finish her active labor.

“There’s four,” she cooed through heavy lids. Not once throughout the experience did she manage to look back up at the man who impregnated her, but for that split second, she looked. She needed to see how he would react upon seeing their children.

“They’re beautiful,” she hummed before clamping her mouth tightly shut around the thickest portion of the stick. It’s bark pierced the soft tissue of her tongue and the roof of her mouth, causing a metallic taste to slither around her taste buds. It was disgusting, but a welcomed distraction as her body continued to push, and push, and push.

Tears streamed freely down her facial features as she craned her skull to seek Stjor’s warmth. “Please,” she groaned to him, as if a silent plea to hold her. The woman needed something to ground her. To keep her body present and alive as she expelled the last remaining pups from her body.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kajsa had given birth to a lovely litter of eight, beautiful and healthy pups. Their small and fragile bodies nestled close to her stomach, seeking the familiar warmth of her body.

Utterly exhausted, Kajsa shifted her body to coil around them in a protective fashion, while her tongue idly lapped at each of their frames, licking them clean.

“Eight,” she murmured with a new and intense love. The feelings she felt in this moment were incomprehensible. How could she describe just how happy she was to have given birth to a large and healthy litter. All the pups had each of their paws, toes, and limbs. It was a time of joy, pain, and love.

Heavy eyes merely stared at the squirming little bodies, her head resting freely on her paws. She was afraid if she closed her eyes, she would miss the moment. That maybe this was all some weird and intense fever dream, but her body had just gone through one of the most painful experiences of her life. So instead, Kajsa let herself nuzzle further into the safety of her children’s father, her eyes fluttering shut. “They’re your problem until I awake,” she murmured with a hint of a smile.

“Congratulations, Golden One.”
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The world had greeted him with stinging lungs as the fresh air rushed in. He screamed and whined, calling out to whatever god had forsaken him. His stomach immediately aching, a hunger unquenched! Who dare would leave him to starve, to cry out!

His screaming would slowly begin to waver when the warm and wet tongue would lap across his head. He silenced himself as it brushed away his worries and his pain, soothed his mind as it cleaned his fur of blood and fluid.
A warm feeling came over him, one that filled his entire little body. After the warmth came a scent so strong he couldn't stop himself from quickly scrambling to it's source. His paws failed him as he struggled his way over, only finally meeting his proper place when the pressure of a large nose pushed him closer.

His tiny, pinkish nose would sniff wildly as he searched. Kicking through the other little lifeforms among the ground with him. As if by instinct, once he found the producer, he latched on without second thought. More warmth driving him to drink and be satisfied.

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Where her brother would scream his discomfort to the skies, Tveir took a more… grumbly approach. Her complaints would be expressed through huffs and grunts and snorts, and the occasional whine. It was far too cold, she was far too hungry, and the writhing bodies around her felt different out in the open world than they had within Kajsa’s womb.

This was terrible. How could someone just throw them out into the world like this?

But… something smelled delicious, and instinct drove her to wriggle toward it. But Tveir was a small pup and there was a lot of competition, and she found herself buried beneath two wriggling bodies. With nothing more to do, she let out a series of huffs and grunts, her head swiveling from side to side as she sought out food. Unfortunately, for now, the closest she got was a mouthful of fur.
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When for such a long time your whole existence evolves around soft darkness, warmth and the occasional tumble from one side to the next, the abrupt light and coldness that followed after he came in fifth, were met with a loud whine and a series of grumbles and puffs. The soft kiss of his mother silenced him and like his siblings, he set off on the journey to the tit. Small legs flailed as he huffed and puffed while dragging himself towards the radiating warmth coming from his mother. His blonde fur mixing with his siblings as he finally met his destination.

The sweet taste of milk made him squeak while the liquid itself warmed his belly. And after he was full, he shifted into one of his siblings eyes closing as sleep settled in.

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And so the world created a new life, likely just as it took others as well. In the grand scheme of things, the first-born sun of Hrafnsvaktin was a small, inconsequential drop in the bucket; to the mountain, however, his significance had not yet been determined. Perhaps he would be great, or mediocre. Perhaps he would strike out on his own as his father had. Any number of things could happen as nothing had yet been foretold. Einn had no calling, not yet. 

His only purpose in his first moments were to feed and sleep and grow, each of which he'd do expertly. He had no troubles latching to a teat, no troubles pushing around his siblings to find his own spot among them. He settled in as they all did: under the warm and watchful eyes of their parents.

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By her side, he stood, the silent sentinel in a moment of controlled chaos. So many emotions swirled within the small, enclosed den: elation, exultation, anxiety, pain, love, adoration... There were so many more but for now, the stareater focused on his lover, on the mother of his children.

Maroon eyes looked down at her, watching with admiration as she fought through the pain to bring their children into the world. Even one, the man would have been proud of, happy and excited. Then there were four, and then eight. Even Stjörnuáti, as unflappable as he was, was rather bewildered at the size of their litter. Even moreso at the display of sheer strength and tenacity from the mother herself. That she had not passed out, or even had the energy to speak....

Gingerly, his tongue swept across her brow, and her cheek. His nose slipped across her own, a quiet murmur of affection seeking to console her in her time of vulnerability. “A strong family, we make,” He would tell her, a warm smile tinging his expression. “Sleep, vörður hjarta míns — keeper of my heart. This one will protect you all with his life.”

And woe befall any who dared to try, for Stjörnuáti af Stormskýli —

Stjörnuáti af Hrafnsvaktin

— would burn the world for the nine lives all bundled in the den behind him as he settled at the mouth once more.

If only his siblings could see him now.

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