Born of Fear
03-15-2016, 05:19 PM
Walk | Talk | Think
Callisto had the den to herself, much to her relief. The quiet space had been willingly, even happily, shared with Jakart at first, but after her recent nightmare the walls felt like they were closing in around her and the once comforting form of her lover began to feel oppressive. She began to look forward to the morning when Jak would leave her to do whatever he spent his days doing, whether it be hunting, training or patrolling with his brothers, or stopping Narcissus from becoming too much of a burden on Belladonna. Only when she was alone could the healer begin to relax, but it was also during those times when her thoughts were the loudest. These are my pups, she told herself, mine, not anyone else's. But Jakart so frequently now paid more attention to the growing swell of her belly, to the puppies within. What if he wants to take them once they're here?
She breathed out sharply through her nose, pale eyes severe within her darkened frown, and possessively curled her body just a little tighter, sheltering the life within from everyone but her. The discomfort of the pressure, which had been growing stronger throughout the day, protested against her movement, but she ignored it. Not once before had she given thought to having children of her own. One litter had been forced on her, and even then she had done everything in her power to distance herself from the pups and what potential she could have had in their lives. It had been easier that way. But bringing them to term and birthing them, being there those first few weeks until she could leave her captivity, and them, behind had left a strong sense of guilt fueled by the knowledge that she could have done better, should have done better, by those lives that she had never wanted but still somehow felt responsible for.
The current litter she carried could in no way replace the litter that had been lost to Lel - their unknown fates and her abandonment of them would always weigh on her conscience - but at least in this way Calli had a means of starting over. I'm not giving you up, she thought to the pups inside of her, wincing as the discomfort became more distinct. I'm not letting anyone take you away. Not even Jakart. Even thinking it, that he might somehow do what Lel had done and lay claim to the children, complete and total ownership with her parental rights denied, left a sour taste in her mouth. She had been so sure that he was of a timid brand, capable of being manipulated to her wishes. He had shown he had a mind of his own, however, and in his recent excitement for the birth of their litter she had read a sneaking bit of possessiveness too, a desire to be a prominent figure in their children's lives. She feared, more than she let on, that his excitement was only a mask for more selfish desires that would exclude her.
Her middle cramped, the muscles contracting, and Callisto tensed under the pain. She groaned softly, realizing then what she had failed to realize until this point. The pain and discomfort she had felt throughout the day were a warning, telling her that her birthing would begin soon. She had gotten too preoccupied with her fears to notice until there was no more denying the fact her children would soon be on their way. Nervousness afflicted her but not to the point it detracted from her ability to reason. She breathed, deep and measured, as she maneuvered herself inside of her den toward the carefully stocked pile of herbs she had saved just for this. Motherwort. Trillium. Taking measured doses of both, she hoped it was not too late, and grabbed a sprig of lavender just for the soothing scent of it. With it held tightly between her teeth, Callisto situated herself with her back to the den's entrance and focused on her breathing as the contractions came stronger, more quickly, and the birthing process began.
Callisto had the den to herself, much to her relief. The quiet space had been willingly, even happily, shared with Jakart at first, but after her recent nightmare the walls felt like they were closing in around her and the once comforting form of her lover began to feel oppressive. She began to look forward to the morning when Jak would leave her to do whatever he spent his days doing, whether it be hunting, training or patrolling with his brothers, or stopping Narcissus from becoming too much of a burden on Belladonna. Only when she was alone could the healer begin to relax, but it was also during those times when her thoughts were the loudest. These are my pups, she told herself, mine, not anyone else's. But Jakart so frequently now paid more attention to the growing swell of her belly, to the puppies within. What if he wants to take them once they're here?
She breathed out sharply through her nose, pale eyes severe within her darkened frown, and possessively curled her body just a little tighter, sheltering the life within from everyone but her. The discomfort of the pressure, which had been growing stronger throughout the day, protested against her movement, but she ignored it. Not once before had she given thought to having children of her own. One litter had been forced on her, and even then she had done everything in her power to distance herself from the pups and what potential she could have had in their lives. It had been easier that way. But bringing them to term and birthing them, being there those first few weeks until she could leave her captivity, and them, behind had left a strong sense of guilt fueled by the knowledge that she could have done better, should have done better, by those lives that she had never wanted but still somehow felt responsible for.
The current litter she carried could in no way replace the litter that had been lost to Lel - their unknown fates and her abandonment of them would always weigh on her conscience - but at least in this way Calli had a means of starting over. I'm not giving you up, she thought to the pups inside of her, wincing as the discomfort became more distinct. I'm not letting anyone take you away. Not even Jakart. Even thinking it, that he might somehow do what Lel had done and lay claim to the children, complete and total ownership with her parental rights denied, left a sour taste in her mouth. She had been so sure that he was of a timid brand, capable of being manipulated to her wishes. He had shown he had a mind of his own, however, and in his recent excitement for the birth of their litter she had read a sneaking bit of possessiveness too, a desire to be a prominent figure in their children's lives. She feared, more than she let on, that his excitement was only a mask for more selfish desires that would exclude her.
Her middle cramped, the muscles contracting, and Callisto tensed under the pain. She groaned softly, realizing then what she had failed to realize until this point. The pain and discomfort she had felt throughout the day were a warning, telling her that her birthing would begin soon. She had gotten too preoccupied with her fears to notice until there was no more denying the fact her children would soon be on their way. Nervousness afflicted her but not to the point it detracted from her ability to reason. She breathed, deep and measured, as she maneuvered herself inside of her den toward the carefully stocked pile of herbs she had saved just for this. Motherwort. Trillium. Taking measured doses of both, she hoped it was not too late, and grabbed a sprig of lavender just for the soothing scent of it. With it held tightly between her teeth, Callisto situated herself with her back to the den's entrance and focused on her breathing as the contractions came stronger, more quickly, and the birthing process began.
03-16-2016, 07:25 PM
The umber child shifted where he remained surrounded by warmth. It wasn't by choice, a fact that he weakly protested within the membrane he was encased in as he moved along before the other one that he found himself next to in his mother. The other like him moved around just as he did, quarreling and shoving against one another as the space they were trapped in grew smaller and smaller for the growing twins. But now that changing and he didn't like it, even as he was squeezed periodically it only brought discomfort and fright to the tiny life. What was happening? The pup could only be forced along, until suddenly he was brought to life by the lack of surrounding pressure, tiny limbs weakly moving against the casing. There was a moment when he felt like he was choking and he didn't like it.
The babes tiny maw worked for air but only filled with fluid until at last his deaf ears were grazed by something. There was a sensation of tearing dangerously close and the fluid all went away as the tiny pup took in a gurgled breath of air. More and more he was caressed by his mothers tongue, whimpers leaving his scrunched muzzle as he dealt with the overwhelming sensations. Whatever was cleaning him was so warm but it was to rough! A single cry left him, bubbles forming on the side of his lips as he breathed more and filled his lungs for the first few times in his life. When the cleaning was over and there was some resemblance of a dried off pup he was placed next to something that reeked of sustenance. Instinctively the babe latched on and worked his forepaws against the teat of his mother. It just only now became apparent to him how hungry he was, nursing his fill before the competition would arrive and then curling up against the warm belly of Callisto to dutifully fall sleep.
The babes tiny maw worked for air but only filled with fluid until at last his deaf ears were grazed by something. There was a sensation of tearing dangerously close and the fluid all went away as the tiny pup took in a gurgled breath of air. More and more he was caressed by his mothers tongue, whimpers leaving his scrunched muzzle as he dealt with the overwhelming sensations. Whatever was cleaning him was so warm but it was to rough! A single cry left him, bubbles forming on the side of his lips as he breathed more and filled his lungs for the first few times in his life. When the cleaning was over and there was some resemblance of a dried off pup he was placed next to something that reeked of sustenance. Instinctively the babe latched on and worked his forepaws against the teat of his mother. It just only now became apparent to him how hungry he was, nursing his fill before the competition would arrive and then curling up against the warm belly of Callisto to dutifully fall sleep.
03-22-2016, 02:02 PM
The tiny being that would eventually come to be known as Oleander squirmed, straining against the tight space that he was confined in. For the longest time, he had been comfortable and cozy, snugly sharing the space allotted to him with his brother, but for days now that space had become constraining and stifling. There was little enough room to move, and even less for comfort. It made the unborn babe more restless and undoubtedly caused his mother more discomfort as well. He was entirely unaware of what his movements did to her, or to his brother who had nowhere to get away from him, but selfishly he squirmed, fighting for some amount of space inside the womb.
It was finally making a difference. He hated that it did - the whole birthing process itself was strange and uncomfortable - but by the time he was released and freed from his confinement his ability to move was almost completely unlimited. As he was cleaned, Oleander flailed his tiny limbs, worked his little jaws, and eventually found his voice with a pleading cry. It was frightening, going from the womb to the openness of the den, but he was far from alone. His mother's tongue caressed him, cleaned him, soothed his fear, and as he began to wriggle about, nudged to her side, he felt another soft, damp presence beside him. And smelled something that he wanted.
Determinedly, the dark child cried as he crawled and pushed against his sibling to nose against his mother, searching for a means to nurse as well.
It was finally making a difference. He hated that it did - the whole birthing process itself was strange and uncomfortable - but by the time he was released and freed from his confinement his ability to move was almost completely unlimited. As he was cleaned, Oleander flailed his tiny limbs, worked his little jaws, and eventually found his voice with a pleading cry. It was frightening, going from the womb to the openness of the den, but he was far from alone. His mother's tongue caressed him, cleaned him, soothed his fear, and as he began to wriggle about, nudged to her side, he felt another soft, damp presence beside him. And smelled something that he wanted.
Determinedly, the dark child cried as he crawled and pushed against his sibling to nose against his mother, searching for a means to nurse as well.