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The day that she so dreaded came. The pains that brought her awake through the night as she laid within the den, tired eyes gazing out to the moonlight and wishing for all of it to be untrue, and done with. She retraced memories, of when and where it could all be and yet within the endless times she had met many, there wasn't even one to recall. Who to say she had more then a few dreams, of wishing for a man to embrace her with a love, and the desire of passion that she no longer could find — or even deserve, with all the sins upon her paws. Abandoned, that she was, as one by one even her own young, seem to cast her away.
She didn't even want to look, nor' try at heart as she lay within a despair, a neglecting of her own being. Oh-so tired, and far too skinny for any female wolf that should be. She could only hope that it was just herself growing larger and larger by habits, and yet when her sides didn't slim.. Celnes started to recluse herself away, ashamed, for if anyone saw her they would surely thing: the bitch couldn't shut her legs.
Teardrops, flowed from her eyes as she closed it tight through the pains. Far worse then the first litter, but it was perhaps due to her unwillingless to let it be. Let them die, was the thought, and let it be a dream to escape from. But as a Queen, as someone who built Elkshire itself — her pride wasn't willing to let her run away and abandon of what was. Eventually, everyone would know, even her young.
She would pray to the High Elk, that they were not thinking she casted them away. How her own mother simply birthed out two, only to neglect one after the other — she did not want to be like that. Celnes dearly loved them, regardless how sinful they may look like. They were hers, and would shower them within a love and unaware of the strife between them, the neglect and worry some may have ; a clear favoritism she would not admit for she surely believed, she gave them all a motherly affection.
But that wasn't the full truth, at the very least to most views. A blindness taking over, clouded judgement.
She wanted the first, despite the initial use they were for, they were still her own. With a purpose, and an affection, and the second.. An accident, a mistake that she wouldn't admit until the line was far too close and she.. She was no choice but to avoid and divide herself away from it all until this very moment.
The sun was rising, and so were their appearances. One by one did they come out — but at the very least, was only half the size of the first. Perhaps a surprise if anything that they were coming relatively healthy despite how unwell Celnes looked, especially as slowly her own face looked sullen by their own.
No names were given, not yet. She couldn't come to terms as they arrived, for one by one — within a total of four bastards coming through, each push more painful then the last and the desire to pull away and simply let it be ; but by the High Elk she couldn't be so heartless to just let her own kin die, even if there was such a reluctance that came through. A nudging, to her teats before the Queen pulled her head away.
How she pushed them to her womb and yet.. Couldn't find herself to even look at them, much less gather the affection to swoon and comfort, to provide love as she did with the first. Her fire-lit eyes were crossing to the view of whites within the mixture, grays at the few and the overall tone of like winter itself, not the glorious browns she was so used to.. Only some..
Only one was in a true color, the youngest of them all within the tint of orange, similar to Calhoun. Like a little deer she so saw, but despite how holy he may look, not even he could grab her attention as her ears flickered to the sound of their mewling and desires, and only she.. Could stare out as the sun rose.
And so were they born.
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