She knew she was inching closer and closer to finally being able to give birth to these pups that had made her stomach grow and swell tremendously, but over the last couple of days she started to feel that restlessness that she remembered feeling from their first litter. It felt like a waiting game and any minute her labor could start so she stuck close to their den, keeping Irilyth and Alastor close while she waited. Their pups were energetic and active, seemingly just as eager to be free as she was to free them. They were large enough now that their wiggling and kicking against her ribs was more impactful and painful than it had been when they first began to move around like this and she was thankful that they were very nearly at the end.

It was the very wee hours of the morning as she drifted in and out of uneasy sleep, getting up and down again and again throughout the night. She did her best not to wake Alastor as she moved around the den, but she knew she wasn't going to be entirely successful. It was just impossible for her to get comfortable or relax while her body prepared itself for what was to come. Finally, just as the sun was beginning to lighten the sky, she was pulled out of shallow sleep by that easily recognizable pull, tightness, and pain of her first contractions, her water breaking and dampening her thighs and the bedding under her. She was relieved that it had finally begun, but an odd nervousness came with it too. Going into her first birth she hadn't felt the concern she felt now over what would come once it was all said and done. She remembered the way she had felt when she saw her pups for the first time after Avacyn and Saracyn were born and having to face that again with the inevitable truth of what would have to be done made an unexpected pit in her stomach.

She shoved the thoughts out of her mind as she leaned over to nudge Alastor awake with her nose gently pressing to his cheek, giving him a little smile as she panted lightly through the beginning of her next wave of contractions. "It's time," she told him softly before she shifted a bit and settled more comfortably on her side. Looking back out toward the rest of the cave that laid outside of their personal chamber, she called, "Irilyth! It's time!" to summon her handmaiden to her side. It was hard to believe that it had already been a year since they had done this song and dance in that first temporary home they had out on the prairie and now here they were in the pack they created, their first litter now yearlings, and a second litter only moments away from being born.

"Manea Mendacium"

Alastor watched with mounting pride and love as each day, Manea seemed to grow a little bit larger with their growing pups. What had started as a small swell to her belly had now become a notably large distention from her, one he knew must be uncomfortable. He couldn't be sure, but he thought that she looked even bigger than she had a year ago. Was she carrying a larger litter than their twins had been? Either way, it spurred Alastor on into father mode, keeping close beside Manea all hours of the day to care and cater for her as she became less and less able to do normal things on her own. He brought her meals, kept her comfortable and relaxed, helped her pass the time with conversation and games, just generally anything he could do to be of aid to his heavily pregnant wife. As the days drew closer to the end, Manea became more and more restless, just as she had been when their first litter had been born. He recognized the signs in her, and Irilyth confirmed those suspicions with daily checkups on the Genetrix. The pups would be here any day!

The night when it all happened, Alastor had been drifting in and out of sleep as well, disturbed by his wife's constant motions and state of restlessness. Each time she got up he woke up as well, though sometimes he would just drift back to sleep and sometimes he would sit up with her and cuddle her until she settled. It happened so frequently that by the time dawn began to approach, Alastor had just begun to go back to sleep unless Manea needed him for something. A gentle nudge of a wet nose to his cheek drew the dire brute out of his slumber with a groggy grumble of incoherent words. Manea told him it was time, and the dazed man didn't know what she meant at first. Then he smelled the air and recognized the scent of birth, and then all systems were on high alert. The dark-furred wolf hurried to rise, going about gathering some extra furs to make Manea comfortable and filling a bowl with water from the cave's spring for her. He then returned to her side and settled in so she could recline against him, draping a foreleg over her side to stroke her swollen belly, partially to soothe her and partially to offer her something to bite if she needed to.

"Ready to be parents again, my love?" he said with a wide smile to his mate, kissing her cheek gently while Irilyth made her way into their bedroom to begin the procedures. "You can bite me at any time if you need to. You've got this."

"Alastor Mendacium"

Irilyth knew Manea would give birth to her next litter soon. The Genetrix had grown quite large in the past couple of weeks, and there would be no doubt that the puppies would be arriving any day now. The closer they drew to the due date, the more Irilyth kept an eye on her Mistress, giving her routine daily checkups to validate the health and activity of her unborn children. She started Manea on a regiment of neonatal herbs and supplements to help the pups grow healthy and strong, despite knowing the fate of what most of them would face. She was a healer first, and she had a duty to those in her care, no matter how ill-fated they might have been. Just before Manea had become den-bound, Iri had ventured out to make sure she had plenty of supplies from the nearby terrains to have ready for the birth. Manea's first birth had gone relatively easy and smooth, and though she had high hopes for this one as well, she knew it was better to be prepared than come armed with a hope.

With all the medicines and tinctures made and ready for the big day, the sandy blonde fae existed in a holding pattern around the two Elysian alphas. She watched while Manea's body prepared for what would come, and Alastor did his best to comfort and care for her as her husband. Seeing the two wolves interact with one another, giddy and eager for the newest addition to their family, it brought a small smile to Iri's face while she hung off to the side. On the night of the birth, Irilyth had given Manea a checkup before bed, gave the dire fae a small concoction of alfalfa and elderberry, and then turned in for the night. She wasn't disturbed at any point throughout the night, and slept peacefully through to dawn. At the first break of day, Manea's voice calling out to her roused the fae from slumber, and Iri lifted her head with a start. It was time? It was time! "Oh! O-Oh, yes! Coming, Mistress Manea!" she called back, scrambling to her paws to gather up the necessary herbs and potions she'd prepared for just this moment. As she gathered her essentials and headed out of her room, she noticed a pouting Saracyn head out of the den, grumbling about lost sleep on his way out.

Irilyth came trotting briskly into the alphas' bedchambers a few minutes later, seeing Alastor comforting and cradling Manea while she panted and began her labored breathing. The Genetor had already gotten some water and extra furs for her, which helped tremendously. Irilyth smiled to see the two soon-to-be parents in all their glory. Manea was practically glowing! But the perceptive woman noticed the bit of anxiety and nervousness in her lady's eyes. It was to be expected; childbirth was no easy feat. There was a reason they called it a miracle of nature. Irilyth laid out a mat of assorted herbs and liquid-filled bottles, finding one and popping the cork stopper before pressing it gently to Manea's lips to drink. "Here, my lady. Extracts of motherwort and trillium." Both herbs that would help with her contractions and the pain to follow. As an extract, the herbs' properties would be amplified and take effect much more quickly. Once Manea had drunk the medicine, Irilyth shifted to sit beside her alphess and rested her paws on Manea's belly, pressing gently to feel the puppies shifting and squirming about inside her womb. "They're feisty this morning," she commented with a little smile. "They're getting into position now. Steady breaths, my lady, and push when you feel the contractions." Compared to last year, Irilyth felt far more prepared to aid in this birth. There would be no issues and they would be welcoming a new Mendacium into the world today!

"Irilyth"

Once she alerted her husband and handmaiden activity broke out around her with Alastor hurrying to gather extra furs and fetching a bowl of water soon followed by Irilyth rushing in with her herbs and medicines. She smiled a little past her light panting as she watched them, her aqua gaze following them both with grateful affection. She was a proud woman, but not so proud as to believe that she could have done this entirely on her own. They both reminded her of her boundaries and were there to help her without her needing to ask. As Alastor settled beside her and draped a foreleg over her midsection, she leaned back into him just as she had as she was birthing their first litter. The gentle movement of his paw was at least soothing between the slowly building contractions, but more than anything she was just happy to have him here with her as always. "You know I am," she replied with a slightly breathless chuckle, giving her mate a grin. "And I'll certainly remember that if need be."

Irilyth brought her a medicated drink of some sort and Manea took it without question, trusting her beloved handmaiden to give her what she needed. She only knew the very basics of what herbs were needed during birth so she knew of mortherwort and trillium, but she hadn't she slightest idea how Irilyth made them into extracts. No matter how she had done it, Manea was impressed. During her last birth she had forgone the trillium until it was too late for it to do any good so she was glad that Irilyth was making her take it now this time around. Manea had learned a lot about herself over the last year and as much as she knew she could go through this without the help of the additional herbs, she also knew she had so much more to live for now and there was no need to put additional strain on herself when it wasn't needed. "Thank you, Irilyth," she replied as she sat down the now empty bottle before leaning over to get a quick drink from the spring water Alastor had gathered to wash down the herbal taste that had filled her mouth.

With that taken care of she settled into Alastor once more, glancing toward Irilyth as the small healer felt her belly and the wriggling pups within. Manea nodded to her instructions, remembering well the rhythm of things she had discovered the first time around. For a little while the contractions were more akin to dull pains and uncomfortable tightness as the muscles around her midsection naturally started to work the pups into place, but the longer that things progressed the more intense and painful the contractions became. She rested her head on the upper part of Alastor's foreleg as she leaned her back into him for support, panting and grimacing through each contraction while things continued to progress as they should. It didn't take too long before the building pressure and pain finally told her it was time to push. She drew in a steadying breath and timed it with the next wave of contractions, her claws gripping into the fur bedding and a low growl rumbling in her chest as she began to bring their first born of this litter into the world in earnest.

She caught quick breaths and panting between the contractions that were now very close together as the first pup was worked steadily out into the world and with each hard push her growls and grunts of pain got louder. She could feel the difference between this time and the last time with the trillium in full effect, but it still was by no means a pleasant experience. Towards the end as the pain reached its peak her paw shifted from the bedding to Alastor's foreleg in some attempt to hold onto something solid as she dug deep to finally push free this pup that was very clearly taking after its parents in size. Her claws sank into his skin as her toes flexed and gripped, a short scream that was muffled through gritted teeth escaping her as she gave that last hard, final push to birth their pup.

She immediately relaxed with a shuttering sigh and released Alastor's leg as her body gave her a bit of reprieve, lifting her head so that she could see their child as Irilyth cleaned them up and brought them over to her side. It only took a moment before the cries of a puppy filled their den and a grin pulled across her features, glancing back at Alastor happily before giving her full attention to their pup. She didn't have time to fully inspect the pup that Irilyth had declared was a girl, but even with her damp fur Manea could already see the vibrant fiery colors of her father and the distinctive patterns that he carried and she could practically feel her heart melt. She had a soft spot for those vibrant red hues and this girl had them in spades. She didn't have much chance to celebrate though as her contractions quickly picked back up again after only just a short breather, signaling the next round of labor as her siblings eagerly began to make their way out to join her.

"Manea Mendacium"

Irilyth arrived promptly while Alastor got situated with Manea, making sure his mate was comfortable for the painful process she was about to endure. He recalled the birth of their twins and how that had gone for her, and already the Genetor was preparing for the worst. This time, however, it seemed Manea had learned her lesson, as when Irilyth offered the Genetrix some distilled medicine she took it without question. Alastor nodded his head to Irilyth, glad for their resident healer's diligent work. At least now maybe some of the suffering she would have to endure would be subdued. With the medicine taken, Manea settled back into his side, and Alastor continued to comfort her to the best of his abilities all throughout her growing contractions. He whispered sweet words of encouragement to her as she grunted and groaned, gritting his own teeth to bare the pain and spike of arousal that hit him when Manea's claws dug into his foreleg. Hopefully this wouldn't take very long.

The first pup didn't take much time at all, and as soon as Manea's contractions hit in force, it was only minutes before he heard his wife let loose a muffled scream followed by a heavy sigh of relief and Irilyth was quick to start tending to their newborn pup. "Well done, my love," he encouraged her with a few tender licks to the back of her neck and her ears. "Just a couple more to go now." Irilyth placed their new daughter at Manea's belly, the small pup already wriggling her way into position to begin feeding. Alastor gazed down at the bundle of brindled red fur that looked as if she were made from living fire, bearing the same flame markings on her coat as he wore. Alastor's heart also melted for the girl who looked so much like him, unable to keep from grinning like an idiot as he stared down at the perfect little being. He didn't get long to admire his child, however, as Manea was already showing signs of beginning the process again. Alastor resumed the position, ready to take whatever she needed to dish out to him to get her through this process, be it cat claws or wolf teeth.

"Alastor Mendacium"

Irilyth was glad that Manea had taken the trillium decoction without any fuss. She remembered all too well the pain her Mistress had gone through with her first litter, and she was glad that the violet queen wouldn't have to endure that kind of suffering again. The process of the birth proceeded smoothly, with Irilyth timing Manea's contractions with a paw resting gently on the alphess' midsection while her husband comforted her through it all. Manea's struggle grew, and with a pained scream, the first new Mendacium pup came into the world. Irilyth wasted no time in gathering up some swaddling cloth and beginning to clean off the pup, making sure its airways were clear. She was rewarded with a squealing scream from the hefty girl. "Congratulations, it's a girl!" she announced to the happy parents, carefully lifting the pup in her jaws and nestling it in at Manea's teats to begin feeding.

While Manea and Alastor doted over their new daughter, Irilyth returned to her position, preparing the swaddling cloth while she rested her paw on Manea's belly again. She thought she could feel at least two more pups moving about, but she couldn't be sure. A quick glance back at her medical supplies for an inventory check and she was ready to go. "Let me know if you need more painkillers, Mistress," she informed Manea as the contractions started up again. She could give the woman one more dose of the trillium if need be, but only if the childbirth became too dangerous or difficult for her.

"Irilyth"

Manea wasn't given much time to celebrate the birth of their fire-marked daughter as her body proceeded on with the natural course of things whether she was ready for it to or not. The labor was moving along swiftly which she was thankful for in some regards, but it did mean that there was little time to rest. She leaned back into Alastor once more, appreciative of him and his support, her paw lightly brushing his leg while she panted and braced herself for the next waves of contractions. "Just a couple more," she agreed breathlessly and glanced toward Irilyth with a small nod as her attentive handmaiden told her there was more painkillers to be had if she needed them. Manea certainly appreciated the offer, especially now that she had experienced the difference between birth with and without them, but now that she had the first one behind her she felt like she could continue on as she currently was. Maybe she'd regret that choice later, but only time would tell.

She breathed through the clench and discomfort of her contractions as they began to pick back up again, the muscles around her midsection tightening with each contraction as her body continued working the pups free. She snarled as the pain began to build again and as she began to push with each of the contractions she growled through each of them, her claws finding the fur they were laying on instead of her husband's foreleg this time. Each push took more and more effort, straining a bit more each time. She was reminded of giving birth to Saracyn, but at least this time she had something to take the edge off of the pain. The final few pushes to get the large pup free seemed to be more than the trillium could mask through and she turned her head a bit from where it was laying on Alastor and bit down around the upper part of his foreleg to muffle her screams, putting all of her energy and effort into freeing this pup. Finally she felt the pup slip from her and she was able to relax once again, collapsing back into Alastor with a shaky sigh as she released his leg. She gave the bite wound a few licks in silent thanks and apology while Irilyth cleaned up the pup.

She heard Irilyth announce that this one was a boy and once the second born was at her stomach next to their daughter she lifted her head to look at their new born children again. The boy was noticeably larger than the fiery girl, but looked almost as if he had been cloaked entirely in black. Perhaps there were some markings that she couldn't see or notice right in that moment between fits of contractions, but it seemed as though this boy got Alastor's melanism without any of the markings to break up the darkness. Either way, even without the stunning markings of his sister, Manea still found herself gazing at the boy adoringly. At the fringes of her mind she was reminded that they were fast approaching when decisions would have to be made and it made her lay her head against Alastor once more and turn her gaze away from their precious children.

Manea's labor forged full speed ahead before she really had a chance to catch her breath, the third pup coming very quickly and more easily than the first two. It was still by no means a pleasant experience, but she didn't think it ever was or would be. It at the very least seemed to go more quickly and with less strain that the second. She didn't have to bite Alastor's leg this time as the contractions gripped her and she gave hard pushes with each one, working the pup free with each one. With a pained growl and a tired grunt she finally pushed what was hopefully the last pup free and she panted to catch her breath for a few moments, the sound of another pup's cries filling the den until another little girl was brought to her side to lay along side her siblings. She laid there for a few moments longer, resting in Alastor's embrace until she was sure the contractions had settled and Irilyth was able to double check to make sure they were really finished. Then she sat up a bit, looking to the pups at her side and seeing the third pup for the first time. It was by far the smallest of the group, almost half the side of the boy beside her, but her coat was swirled with a galaxy of violet and red, mimicking her patterns with a blend of Alastor's red mixed in.

"Manea Mendacium"

As Manea's contractions began up again in earnest, Alastor was there to hold and comfort her through the brunt of it all. As his wife struggled and strained, he held her steady and whispered soft words of encouragement. All the while, black shark-like eyes kept drifting down to the tiny red girl nursing at her belly, his heart skipping a beat every time he laid eyes on his new daughter. Alastor was smitten already. The second pup seemed to be giving her more trouble that the first and Alastor suspected it would probably be another dire after its parents. It took some time, but soon enough, Manea gave birth to their second child, biting into his foreleg in the process and drawing snarling growls of pain from the dire brute in the process. He didn't mind, of course; he'd endure any amount of pain if it meant making this process easier for Manea. He nuzzled the back of Manea's neck in encouragement while Irilyth cleaned and positioned their second child at her belly. He peered over her bloated sides to spy the little black boy, looking sticking like his sire, just sans the distinctive red markings. Sure enough, he was a large pup, carrying all the dire genes his parents did. Alastor also gazed lovingly down at his new son, a proud and fatherly smile creeping across his face.

Fortunately, Manea only had one more pup left to birth. The third came far easier it seemed, and Manea didn't have to physically maim him in the birthing process this time. Sure enough, the third child was a small, squealing little girl, the tiniest of the lot. Yet despite her size, her fur was a dazzling sea of swirling red and violet galaxies. What she lacked in size, she made up for in opulence. Alastor reveled in his three new children—until the dark realization of what they were about to do gripped his heart like the icy fingers of Death itself had reached into his chest. Alastor's smile slowly slid from his face, grim understanding replacing the paternal joy that had once been there while Irilyth excused herself after cleaning off the last pup and Manea's rear. Now left to their own devices, Alastor listened to the little suckling sounds and coos his children made while they ate their first meal and drew in their first breaths. His heart broke knowing what was about to happen. "They're all so beautiful..." he whispered, as if speaking normally was uncouth for such a tender moment. He leaned over to kiss and nuzzle Manea's cheek, holding her gently to his form. "We did it, love. You did so well!"

"Alastor Mendacium"

After the birth of the first pup, Irilyth was ready for whatever would come next. There was a bit of a high to helping lead a successful birth, knowing that she had helped bring these tiny little lives into the world. She took great pride in her work and it showed. The second pup proved much more challenging for Manea, who struggled and pushed and fought to get the child out. At one point, Irilyth had already begun to prepare a second trillium concoction for her Mistress, just in case—but Manea persevered, and with a scream and a bite to her husband's leg, she birthed the second pup. He was a large black-furred boy, and after cleaning him and placing him at Manea's teats, she announced him to the happy parents. Irilyth smiled down at the children feeding at their mother's belly, then returned for one last round.

The third pup was a much easier process than the its siblings had been. Manea was able to birth the child with relative ease, so much so that Irilyth didn't even consider the trillium. Manea pushed, and a smaller multicolored girl was born. Iri cleaned her and placed her next to her siblings to get her first meal. Then she rummaged through her supplies to produce a deep purple liquid. She popped the stopper and held the bottle to Manea's lips to drink. "Ginseng and alfalfa," she explained while she urged her alpha to drink. "It will help fortify your body's immune system and help you produce more milk for the hungry little ones. The black one especially seems like he'll eat a lot." Irilyth giggled and smiled down at the three pups, then at the happy family as a whole. "Remember to rest, Mistress. No moving from this bed for a few days. If you need anything, let Alastor or myself fetch it for you. I'll get you some supplements over the next week to make sure your body recovers to the fullest. Doctor's orders." With her task completed, Irilyth bowed her head to her owners, then slid quietly out of the alcove to give the family their peace and privacy.

"Irilyth"

Manea's gaze hardly left the beautiful children nestled against her stomach as Irilyth moved around the den to get more supplies and finish cleaning up from the birth. She only briefly looked up to take the medicines that her handmaiden gave her for immunity and to help her produce more milk, but she had a hard time swallowing the concoction as Irilyth made a comment about how the large, melanistic boy would surely need a lot of food. It made her heart ache, but she knew that Irilyh meant nothing by it and Manea just gave the well intentioned healer a thankful smile as she finished giving her orders to stay on bedrest and that she would bring her more supplements later. "Yes, thank you, Irilyth," she said and watched the little woman as she left the den, watching where she disappeared to for a moment before her smile slipped away and she looked back down at the perfect pups they had created.

Her paw lifted and she gently stroked each of the pup's backs quietly for a moment while she leaned into Alastor's touch as he nuzzled her cheek. "They are..." she whispered back in agreement, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. Each one of them was perfect in their own way and as she had come to expect she loved each of them immediately. When she had helped others of her family, even her own sister, with their gleening ceremonies she hadn't felt more than a moment of hesitation. But this... She leaned back into him and turned her head to nuzzle into his neck for a moment as he complimented her and had a small moment of celebration. No matter what was about to happen, they had successfully made it through another pregnancy and another brith with more healthy pups on the other side. Even though they were about to face the inevitable heartache, she could be grateful for the fact that they were parents again. "Only because I had you here with me," she replied softly.

Bringing her gaze back down to their newborns, her ears folded back and her paw gently rubbed each of their backs once again. She started looking for any of those tell tale signs of gifts that she had been taught to look for. She felt lightly over each of their heads, gently rubbed their tiny paws, examined their little limbs. The smallest girl didn't have any of those noticeable signs, the ebony black boy felt like he might have a couple of little bumps forming on the top of his head, and the fire brindled girl's paws felt like there were the beginnings of little retractable claws like her own. Of course there were always ones that they wouldn't be able to see right away, like Saracyn's teeth, but those were just surprises to be found as they continued to grow. As stunning as the smallest pup's colors were, Manea worried about her size and whether the little girl would catch up to the others. The boy certainly had size on his side, but he lacked her violets or Alastor's reds. The first born, the girl made of fire, seemed to be a perfect balance between the other two.

"You don't have to stay," she said softly with a quiet sadness to her tone as she lifted her gaze back up to Alastor's. She knew how deep his love of pups went and even though she was heartbroken to have to kill any of these perfect children she was even more heartbroken that she was going to have to hurt Alastor like this. "I won't be offended and I won't think any less of you. I can bear this on my own if you need me to," she assured him, giving him the opportunity to leave if he needed it. Whether he left of stayed, she knew she needed to do this now before she gave herself any amount of time to second guess herself any more than she already was.

"Manea Mendacium"

Watching their small bundles of joy nursing at Manea's side had filled Alastor with a giddy high that showed in the stupid grin he had on his face. He had always loved pups, but there was something special about his own that just filled his black and fractured heart in ways nothing else did. Manea nuzzled his neck and assured him that she had only been able to do so well because she had him with her. He gave a quiet rumble of affection and nuzzled her back, content to just drink in this happy moment with his expanding family. That is, he was, until he saw the sad smile on Manea's face. He didn't understand at first; with their first pups having been fortunate enough to be blessed as twins, he'd forgotten about the culling that needed to occur. When he watched Manea begin to inspect and probe their newborn pups for signs of mutations, the dark realization dawned on him. His expression lit up with understanding, then darkened with dread, ultimately falling into a hard and impassive frown while he watched his mate work. Neither of them said a word. What was there to say when you were waiting for the love of your life to execute two of your own children?

Red-tipped ears folded flat to his skull as he watched the inspection continue. He saw the look of doubt and remorse on Manea's face when she studied their smallest daughter and knew instantly what she had decided. She was the runt of the litter, after all. It would have taken some great mutations to spare her life. Alastor looked at his galactic daughter with sorrow. He would never get to carry the little thing on his back, never get to use his superior size and strength to pin her for mandatory tickle times, never feel her getting lost as she played about in his flowing fur. Alastor looked back up to Manea in time to see her regard their ebony son with the same look. She had decided. Alastor heaved a sigh as he looked to his all-black boy with the same heartbreak. Even being the largest hadn't saved his life. In that moment, Alastor saw a future of teaching his son to fight and hunt, watching him grow like Saracyn to rival him in size, going on to be an Elysium warrior—all of it fantasy, never to be reality.

"You don't have to stay." Alastor's head snapped back to Manea as she spoke, his emotionless expression betraying nothing of his thoughts—but the tears in his obsidian eyes certainly would. Again Manea offered him a way out; she could handle the culling on her own and she wouldn't think any less of him. No, she might not, but he would think less of himself. He knew what he was signing up for when he'd begun courting Manea all that time ago. She'd warned him, offered him the chance to leave then. Alastor gave a hard shake of his head. "I'm never leaving you." No matter how difficult things got, he had made a vow to her. He wouldn't abandon her now in their most challenging moment, even if it meant torturing himself in the process. "Let me just... I... They need to know this isn't their fault."

Shifting around, Alastor sat up and leaned over Manea so he could reach his children. With tears falling freely down his muzzle, the dire brute displayed an uncharacteristic level of tenderness as he scooped first the melanistic boy in his large paws and nuzzled and licked his head and back, then repeated the same for the tiny girl. If they had to perish, he wanted them to know that they were loved in the short moments he'd known them. Each pup would take a piece of his broken heart with them today. "Daddy loves you both so much," he whispered to the little squeaking pups, fighting with all his might to keep his voice even and steady. "I'll see you two again someday soon." It was a lie, of course. These perfect little beings would return to whatever otherlife existed beyond their world to live as angels, while he would burn in hellfire for the rest of eternity. He would never see his children again. After placing one more gentle kiss to each of their foreheads, Alastor pulled away with great reluctance, as if a weight was around his neck. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steel himself for what came next, and then nodded to Manea. If they were going to do this, they would need to do it now. He wouldn't have a paw in murdering his own children, but he would stay with his mate while she did what she had to.

"Alastor Mendacium"

She appreciated his strength and his dedication more than he would ever know, but when she saw the tears glimmering in his obsidian gaze she almost insisted that he go regardless. She of course loved their children more than her own life, but Alastor was her entire world. Seeing him hurting and knowing that her and her family's beliefs were the cause of it tore her apart. She gave him all the time he needed as he shifted and leaned over her to reach their pups and she had a difficult time watching as he picked up their son and their smallest daughter, showering them with affections and whispering his love to them both. Tears of her own welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks and for the first time in her life she wondered if this was really worth it. She wondered if everything she had been taught and upholding their family laws was really worth the pain she had to put her beloved husband through. But, when she looked to the girl that would remain and live out her life with their family, she knew she had to. Maybe one day she would come to find that their beliefs were all full of shit, but until she was proven wrong she couldn't live with herself knowing she was letting their daughter live with a fraction of a soul—even with all of the duty and responsibility as the Matriarch aside.

When Alastor pulled back and began to prepare himself, giving her a nod as his agreement for her to go ahead with what had to be done, Manea could hardly breathe past the ache in her chest. She twisted just a bit to be able to rest one of her paws on his cheek, gently kissing away the tears from his ebony eyes. "You will be with them again one day," she insisted, her voice rough and breaking. She knew what he thought of himself, she knew he likely didn't believe the words he had spoken to their children, but he needed to know this wasn't the end of his relationship with them before she tore him apart even more. "You are a Mendacium now. Your soul is just as precious and powerful as theirs. Your spirit is going to join the cycle of the Ancients just as theirs will. They're going to live on in our little girl and one day when we're all gone, we're all going to be together again." Maybe he wouldn't believe her, maybe he would, but she hoped that it brought him some sort of solace while their hearts were breaking.

She gave a shaky sigh as she looked back to the pups at her belly, gently brushing her paw over each of their backs as she took a breath and steadied herself. Manea leaned down, pressing her nose to the little boy's forehead for a moment before doing the same to the smallest girl, having to squeeze her eyes closed to keep the tears from escaping again. She kept one paw lightly on the back of their remaining fire-marked daughter though the whole ordeal, a reminder to herself of what they were gaining and a conduit for the ceremony she had to perform. "Thank you for the invaluable gift you have brought us. You each were given a task to bring the pieces of this Ancient soul to this realm, the hardest task any one of us could ever receive, and you have done marvelously. Now you can rest." She swallowed back a lump in her throat, forcing herself to pull a small smile across her lips as she nuzzled the backs of each of their children. "Go back to the Ancients and enjoy your time with our ancestors, never knowing pain or sorrow, carrying with you the love of our family... and your parents who love you so, so much." Her voice cracked again as she went off script for a moment, nuzzling each of their soft, sleeping forms again. "Your sister will carry your legacy in each of her steps and I will honor you for every day that there is still air in my lungs. Goodbye for now, but not forever."

With that, she forced herself to follow through with the awful task at hand, killing their two children as quickly and painlessly as she could possibly manage with quick bites to their fragile necks. They didn't even make a squeak before they went entirely still and for that she was grateful. Still keeping one paw resting on the remaining girl's back, she lifted her other paw while she tried and failed to keep it from shaking. One at a time, she collected a bit of blood from each of their lost pups, finally finishing the ceremony of it all by painting a small stripe of blood for each of the pups across their daughter's shoulders, though it was difficult to see it among her dark, fire-marked fur. "I rejoin this soul and make it whole once more, granting the power and responsibility of it to our precious gift. May you know always the sacrifice that your siblings gave for you and hold your head high as you embody the strength and the grace of your Ancient soul." Her words were soft and broken, but still full of reverent emotion, holding on to this little girl just a bit tighter as she pulled the girl closer to them. She was still fast asleep, peaceful and oblivious to everything that had gone on around her.

Manea couldn't make herself meet Alastor's gaze. She was too afraid of the heartbreak and the pain she might see on his face, knowing that she was the one that caused it. Without looking up at him, she gently lifted their daughter and placed her safely between them before she sat up a bit to reach for a soft snow leopard pelt she had put aside especially for this. She unrolled it and carefully placed the boy and girl on it, giving each of their heads one last kiss before she just as carefully wrapped them in the fur that would become their burial shroud. Manea gave a shaky sigh as she turned her gaze away. She would need to go prepare a grave for them, but for now she was too exhausted, mentally and physically. She turned her gaze back to their beautiful daughter that was now sleeping away between their front legs, and she managed a little smile. "She'll need a name," she said softly after a moment, trying to focus on the joy of this stunning little piece of Alastor they were getting to keep instead of the two that she had to send away. She still wasn't quite able to meet her husband's gaze and instead just watched their daughter, gently petting and tracing the flame markings that were not quite as distinct as Alastor's yet in the most adorable way because of the fluffy nature of her puppy fur.

"Manea Mendacium"

Alastor wished that Manea had just gone ahead and gotten it over with when he gave her the go ahead. Instead, she made it worse by tending to him first, leaning closer to kiss away his tears while she caressed his cheek. All the while she spoke, Alastor's dark eyes never left his two doomed children, taking in every little movement and sound they made while he still could. Manea tried to reassure him that as a Mendacium, he would be with them again and that his soul was just as precious as theirs were. HA! What a laughable notion! Alastor's soul had long-since been damned and claimed by whatever devils and demons reigned over the hells that awaited him. No amount of lavish, zealous words were going to save his soul, no matter how heartfelt they had been during their union. He could hear the crushing emotion in Manea's voice, but he forced himself to remain stony and still, lest a single crack in his resolve be his undoing. He just kept staring at his three children—soon to be one. No, Manea was wrong. This was the end for him. If there even was an afterlife, there would be no admittance for the likes of him. Once upon a time, eternal damnation hadn't even fazed him. The demon wolf didn't even bat an eyelash at the thought of hellfire and torment. Now, with things he was losing forever, hell seemed a much more painful punishment.

Manea was right about one thing though: he didn't believe her.

All the while Manea went about her culling ceremony, Alastor remained stolid and motionless, more akin to a statue than a living being. He scarcely breathed while he watched her give little affections to the doomed pups, keeping one protective paw resting over the fire-marked girl he knew would be the one to be saved. He didn't disagree with his mate's choice—he disagreed with the choice existing at all. But it was not his place to question or interfere. He knew what he had been agreeing to when he married her. He just never imagined how impossibly difficult the task would be. Manea recited a ritualistic prayer for their two pups sentenced to death. The more she spoke, the more Alastor couldn't shake the thought of stepping in, doing whatever he could to stop this from happening. The thought of mauling his wife while she was still weak and absconding with the pups even crossed his demented mind a couple of times, but he was swift to shut those thoughts down. It was an impossible situation he was in with no good options available. Everything was a lose-lose, and so Alastor sat in perfect stillness and silence while he let the events unfold as they had to, abyssal eyes hard and steeled while he took everything in. He would remember every second of this moment for the rest of his damned life.

Manea struggled through her ritual, but eventually she got all of the words out, emotional as it had been for her. Though Alastor showed no emotion and had shut down, inside his mind raged and his heart was fractured. He watched in deathly silence while Manea bid them goodbye, and then did as she was compelled to. He watched the first bite happen, seeing his sleeping son's chest cease to rise any longer. His heart wrenched and the desire to throw Manea across the room rose again. He remained where he was. Manea delivered the second killing blow to their littlest daughter next and something about the way her body stilled when he watched it had been worse. Perhaps because she was so small and helpless, she reminded him... Alastor's jaw clenched so hard he could hear his teeth gnashing together. He was only half aware when he watched Manea complete the ritual by marking their remaining child with the blood of her murdered brother and sister. For the longest while, Alastor just stared at his remaining daughter, feeling such a terrible mix of emotions that he didn't feel anything else but drained. It was done, over, finished... He had a daughter, one blessed by the Mendacium traditions and baptized in the blood of her innocent siblings. This was what he'd agreed to. He'd allowed this to happen.

After it was all said and done, Manea couldn't even be courageous enough to look him in the eye. She'd grown his children within her, birthed them, murdered most of them, and now couldn't dare to look him in the eye at the end of it all. When Manea placed their living daughter between them so she could gather up the corpses of the others, the ebony-coated brute gazed down at the little girl barely the size of one of his oversized paws, watching as she nestled up against his paw while she slept. His broken heart stung in his chest, especially when he could smell the fresh blood on her like a shark would in the water. Empty obsidian eyes peered down at her, lifting a single massive paw to rest gently over her, astonished at how small she was. That same paw lifted a moment later, and turning it towards himself, Alastor flexed his digits to extend his deadly claws. The deep red gemstones slipped silently into view, glistening in the early morning light. Those empty black eyes peered up at Manea's back while she wrapped their dead pups in a snow leopard pelt, preparing them for burial. The feral animal in his psyche was frenzied, raging with a homicidal desire for revenge. She'd killed his children. It was only right he kill her in turn.

Again and again the animal thrashed and raged for control, but Alastor refused to relinquish it. Black eyes narrowed, pupils shrinking to feral pinpricks as anger blended with sorrow, remorse, and self-loathing. It was a deadly and volatile cocktail ready to blow—but he didn't give in. Despite the wild emotions he was dealing with, he still loved Manea and could never do harm to her. Though it enraged his psychotic side even more, Alastor exhaled hard and retracted his claws, forcing his paw back down to the ground lest he do something he regret. Manea returned to focus on their living daughter once more, stroking the flame markings on her back that mimicked his own, making a comment that she needed a name. "Name her whatever feels right," he spoke in a hard, strained tone that was forced to remain even to keep it devoid of all emotion. It was better to force himself to feel nothing than to feel everything he was bottling up inside. With the violet alphess tending to their new pup, Alastor rose to his paws and strode past Manea, snatching up the bundle that contained their children within and carrying it out with purposeful strides. He wasn't going to let her bury them. He would deal with this himself. He needed to be away from her for a time anyway and this would be a perfect excuse. He didn't give a fuck if she'd just given birth. He wasn't safe to be around right now.

Alastor carried the bundle down the mountain paths towards the eastern beach, walking through the cold autumn morning air. He barely felt the chill through his thick fur, and what he did feel was nothing compared to the cold in his veins. With every step he took, the memory of watching Manea kill their pups played back in his mind over and over, each time stabbing him in the chest again and again and again. Alastor stopped when he came to the rocky shore, seeing the dawn sun rising over the eastern sea and painting the sky a pale canvas of pallid purples and blues. The only sounds were the lapping of the waves and the cries of the gulls above. It was quiet, serene, secluded. Everything his children deserved for their eternal rest. Alastor set the bundle carefully down and found a copse of oak trees by the shore, digging out a grave for his children beneath their wide branches. Once it was sufficiently deep enough, Alastor slid the bundle closer to him, then unwrapped it to gaze down at his children one last time. They were both so small, so helpless, so perfect... Little pieces of himself and his mate  Manea had found fault in both of them, yet he had seen none. Alastor swallowed back the knot in his throat, bringing gentle toe tips of one paw to caress each of their heads one last time before he bundled them back up and carefully nestled them into the hole. Piling the dirt back on top of his deceased children was easily the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

When it was done, Alastor patted the earth flat again and leaned against the oak tree with a quivering sigh. Teary black eyes blinked open to gaze out at the sunrise, warm light spilling across the cold land and settling right over his pups' grave. They would be bathed in morning light for the rest of eternity, as they deserved to be. Fantasies of what could have been once more rushed through his mind, his imagination tormenting him with futures that would never exist. First birthdays that would never be celebrated. Milestones that would never come to pass. He'd known what he'd agreed to by being Manea's mate—he hadn't known the pain and struggle that would come with it. Alastor thought that maybe he'd have some words to say to his children to make this moment make sense, to make it seem right or to justify it. Now that he was here though, nothing felt right. Nothing fit. And so he simply said nothing, just watched the sun rise with a paw over his pups' grave until he needed to vent or he would explode. The Genetor headed off of Alias Island at a steady lope, not bothering to return to the den on the way. He ran right across the land bridge, straight out of Elysium territory, and out into the wild lands of the north.

The dire brute arrived in the Sound shortly later. Now that he was finally alone, Alastor swallowed a deep breath, then he let the animal go. The dire wolf growled low in his chest, then snarled as he lashed around and dug his claws into the nearest tree, tearing at the bark in a rabid frenzy to vent out his rage. Again and again and again he tore gouges out of the wood, snarling and seething. All the pain and anger inside was let loose. It was only once his paws began to ache from tearing up the solid wood for so long did he collapse against the tree again, slumping to the ground as his body was racked with sobs that shook him to the core. The emotions roiled inside him, and throwing his head back to the sky, Alastor let loose a pained and broken scream that seemed to echo around the northern mountains. In place of the pain grew rage. The more he vented, the angrier he became, his chest heaving while he grappled with a desire to rip and tear and harm to release the pent up anger inside. And so that's what Alastor did. The Elysian wolf didn't return home that day. Instead, he charged blindly around the north, killing anything and everything unlucky enough to cross his path. Each kill relieved and incensed him and nothing was spared his wrath, not predator nor prey. Alastor was long gone.

When he did eventually return, it would be well past the evening and almost night, and he would return covered in blood and sporting more than a few new wounds across him. They felt like nothing compared to what he felt inside. These new scars would be his recompense to his children for the rest of his days. He would say nothing to Manea or to anyone who spoke to him. He had nothing to say anyway.

"Alastor Mendacium"

The hard edge to his voice when he told her to pick a name that felt right felt like a slap to the face and her ears flicked back, the smile she had been attempting to wear falling away. She finally brought her gaze up from their daughter as Alastor rose, watching him with shock as he got up, snatched up the bundle that contained their children, and then stormed out of the den. "A-Alastor!" she called after him, watching where he disappeared in stunned silence for a moment while her mind reeled and what little composure she had managed to hold on to started to slip away. "You... You promised..." she whispered, mostly to herself now that she was alone in their den with only their unnamed daughter beside her. The den felt cold and empty on her own and the weight of everything resting on her shoulders crushed down on her even more heavily. The fire marked girl began to stir now that her father's paw that she had been nestled against was gone, making soft squeaks and whines and Manea looked down to her again, hardly able to breathe as she lifted the little pup and brought her back to her side.

"Shhhh... It's okay," she soothed the little pup, her voice trembling as she tried to smile even though the blind, deaf girl wouldn't know any different. Her paw gently stroked the girl's back as she curled around her, forming a protective violet nest around her daughter. "It's okay, my darling... He'll... He'll be right back..." but even as she spoke the words she wasn't sure she believed it. She was exhausted, mentally and physically, and as she rested her head beside her daughter it was impossible to keep the tears back any longer. She held the precious remaining child she had with her so carefully and gently while the flood gates opened, sobbing uncontrollably while she still could before she had to face the rest of her family, the rest of their pack. Before she was forced to put on a proud grin and present the newest Mendacium to them all. Before she had to play the song and dance of the happy matriarch that was able to have another successful litter with another dazzling pup to show for it.

In that moment a loathing built in her aching chest toward them all. Toward her mother for forcing her to be the one to carry these burdens after her, for their way of life that forced her to hurt the only wolf that had ever truly meant anything to her, for all of her family members that would be waiting expectantly to see what she had done and would be eager to praise her for her choice, for upholding their family ideals. She hated them all. It made her wish she had simply seen the treasure that they were given in their first litter being born as twins and stopped while they were ahead. She wished she could have been content with having two perfect children so she wouldn't have had to risk tearing her marriage apart to have another. As she slowly started to get control of her tears with short, hiccuping breaths, Manea blinked open her aching, tired eyes and looked at the girl she was curled around again and knew that she could never regret or resent anything as perfect as her, no matter how empty and heart broken she felt in that moment.

She gave a shaky sigh and nuzzled into the girl's side, feeling her wiggle a bit before settling once more. Oh how she envied this little girl, so oblivious to all of the turmoil around her, eating and sleeping as she pleased. At some point she drifted into fitful sleep, waking up at any little sound or shift expecting it to be Alastor, but it never was. She didn't move much after that, refusing any visitors and having Irilyth send them away. She told her handmaiden to tell them she was tired, that she would speak to them tomorrow, anything that kept them from pressing for reasons why or trying to push their way past the small healer. She couldn't face them. Not yet. There would be plenty of time for them to ooh and ahh over the family's newest miracle soon enough, but now wasn't the time. Although, as more time went by without Alastor returning, she really began to wonder if she would ever be ready to face them again, to have the weight of their expectations on her again. She wanted to damn them all and hide here for as long as she possibly could.

The entire day passed with her laying here on her own with just her still unnamed daughter with her, only Irilyth coming to check on her periodically. The entire day ticked by, dipping all the way into the dark of night. She was watching the little fireball at her stomach drink with aching, tired eyes when she heard a bit of a commotion from the main chamber of their dens, hearing Irilyth fretting over something, but she couldn't quite make out the words at first. She couldn't get up without disturbing her daughter so she waited anxiously for a few moments more until She finally saw Alastor come into view. Her heart leapt up into her throat and an unspoken relief washed over her. You came back, was what she thought to herself, but that relief was quickly tarnished by the lingering, simmering anger that had been building since he stormed away and worry over him as her aqua gaze darted over him and saw the wounds that he accumulated while he was gone. "Alastor?!" she gasped, at a complete loss for words as she tried and failed to form some sort words or response.

"Manea Mendacium"

When Alastor returned to Alias Island, the first thing the demented brute did was go straight to the eastern shore again, back to his children's grave. He sat beside them under the oak trees once more, gazing off at the darkening horizon as the sun ebbed away into night. The wet drip-drip-dripping of blood fell from the wolf's muzzle and limbs, spattering the earth with liquid crimson, the only other sound around besides the lapping of the ocean waves. For the longest time Alastor sat there in silence, staring off into the distance with a thousand yard stare while his fractured heart and fragmented mind tried to make sense of everything. His paw rested over the pups' grave, almost protecting them from some unseen enemy, his paternal instincts still raging strong. His blood dripped from his injured leg, dampening the dirt he'd dug to bury them beneath like some sort of macabre tribute. Maybe the more he bled for them, the more forgiveness he'd earn to atone for his sins and inaction. Quietly under his breath, Alastor sung a lullaby for his babies, the only one he knew from his childhood. His eyes burned from the many tears he shed, and would have continued to weep had he any left. Now all Alastor felt was drained and empty, hollow like a husk with nothing but residual anger and sorrow simmering inside his black heart.

Once the sun had fully vanished and engulfed the world in cold darkness, Alastor soaked himself in the ocean to try to wash most of the blood off of his fur and then began to make his way back to the den, walking with a bit of a limp from a deep gash on his thigh. He'd killed so many predators and prey alike today, he couldn't recall exactly what had made which injury on him—just that he had triumphed over everything he faced. Everything save for this. The Mendacium man trudged up the mountain path to his family's den and walked through the entrance as if he hadn't been gone all day. Irilyth immediately rushed from her room when she saw somebody entering, attempting to stop him from heading towards Manea until she saw who it was. Alastor was only vaguely aware of the little servant fretting over his condition, mostly tuning out her inane tittering as he dragged himself towards their bedchambers, his eyes vacant and empty. Again Irilyth tried to stop him with bandages and herbs, but Alastor shoved the servant out of the way with a snarl of bared fangs and black fire flaring in his eyes. "Get the hell off of me!" he snapped. Irilyth backed off then, hovering off to the side, but no longer pressing him or irritating him.

Alastor limped his way into their bedchambers, his long fur no longer slick and sticky with blood, but still dripping from his open wounds that had gone untreated. The first thing he saw was Manea in their bed, looking at him aghast and relieved at the same time. She called his name in a shocked gasp, but Alastor didn't respond. His obsidian eyes shifted down to the sleeping little fireball tucked protectively at Manea's belly. Seeing his last living child from this litter still well helped soothe his heart some, but he was still far from the same. He regarded Manea with those same empty eyes as he hobbled over to the shelves they had on the walls to store their items, grabbing a small vial of ginseng extract and downing it to help restore some of his lost energy from his psychotic episode across northern Boreas. He'd carved a bloody swath through the northern lands, no doubt leaving a sight to behold for whatever poor sods came across it. Alastor said nothing to Manea at all, instead stumbling his way over to where Manea was lying so he could check on his daughter. Irilyth hovered by the bedroom door, waiting to see if she'd be needed to tend to Alastor or if she should give the tempestuous couple their privacy for whatever was about to go down.

As he drew closer, Alastor's hard gaze softened upon his fire-marked little girl, his last remnant of his second litter. He hadn't expected this to be as hard as it had been on him. He'd never been the sentimental type before, but something about this tore him up inside and made him feel useless. "I took care of the burial," he muttered to his wife, not once making eye contact with her while he spoke in low, flat tones devoid of all feeling. "They're someplace nice. Peaceful. Not that you care." The last sentence was spoken hard and with an edge to his words. Alastor didn't care if it hurt Manea to hear; in fact, he hoped it did. His eyes remained on their daughter, reaching a tentative paw out towards the sleeping bundle of fur and puppy fat, going to gently stroke over her back if Manea didn't stop him. "What did you name her?"

"Alastor Mendacium"

Manea watched Alastor closely as he limped into the den, glancing at the still open wounds that littered his body, and understood what the commotion was now as Irilyth lingered in the doorway at the ready to treat him if given the chance. She could tell from the hard, empty look on Alastor's face that he wouldn't allow Irilyth to touch him, at least not right now, she she glanced toward her hand maiden and gently motioned her away with her paw. Perhaps once he calmed down a bit she would be able to convince him to let Irilyth patch his wounds. For now her tired gaze turned back up to Alastor as he loomed over them, his obsidian gaze on their daughter. She was at least glad to know that he had taken care of the burial of their other children even though she was hurt that she hadn't been allowed to take part in it. She hadn't expected that he would have done anything bad with their tiny corpses, but it at least explained why he had taken them with him. The insistence that she didn't care that they were somewhere nice and peaceful hit her like a knife and her eyes narrowed in exhausted frustration, but she bit her tongue for the moment instead of lashing out at him right away.

He asked about the girl's name while his large ebony paw reached for their girl and she had to fight the instinct to slap his paw away, watching him like a hawk as he went to stroke her back. She knew he was unstable right now and she could picture the havoc he wrecked across whatever part of Boreas he had gone to just from looking at his current physical state, but if there was one thing Manea felt she could always trust him with it was their children. "I haven't named her," she told him, her voice rough from the untold hours she had been crying on and off throughout the day. A shaky sigh left her as she tried and mostly failed to settle her anger and the still overwhelming grief and frustration that hung over her like a bolder just waiting to tip and go rolling down a cliffside. "I couldn't name her without you." If he hadn't come back then she supposed she wouldn't have had a choice, but she didn't want to name this girl on her own. She didn't want to live this life on her own. Without him half of her world was missing and she couldn't imagine existing that way.

Even still, him saying that she didn't care still stung like an open wound and she could hardly look at him without wanting to grab him and shake him and force him to look into her bloodshot eyes and see how much this broke and shattered her. "How dare you say that I don't care?" she finally let herself say, her tone quiet and hard. "What, do you think I wanted to kill our children? That I enjoyed it?" Her anger over took most every other emotion like a cleansing fire, angry at him for not understanding that she was grieving just as deeply, angry at the laws she was born to uphold, angry at the expectations of every one of her family members that looked to her to be the example. The weight on her shoulders was tremendous and she had always depended on Alastor to help support her when the strain became too great. Now it felt like he had pulled that support out from under her and added more weight on top of it.

She did smack his paw away from their daughter then, her shoulders trembling with her anger and her sorrow, forcing him to look at her and the haggard look she wore, exhausted from the birth she went through, the emotional toil of it all, and the thought that by tomorrow she would have wolves demanding answers if she continued to hide in the sanctuary that was their den. She was holding on by a thread and unlike him she didn't have the luxury of being able to storm off and tear apart the world to vent her anger at this unfair situation. She had to stay here, feed and protect this tiny, defenseless girl, and grapple with this harsh reality on her own. "I had to do it," she insisted quietly, her heart wrenching in her chest. "I had to do it for her. To make sure her soul was whole and intact, that she'd be welcomed and accepted by my family... So that I wouldn't be excommunicated from my family like my mother, so I can continue to live with our children and maintain this life we've built." Her gaze begged him to understand and to listen, but she honestly felt like she was fighting an uphill battle and she wasn't sure she had the energy to do it. "I'm the Matriarch. All of their eyes are on me. If I fail and fall apart then everything around us crumbles."

"Manea Mendacium"

Alastor continued to avoid looking at Manea when her tired eyes, bloodshot and bleary from crying all day, turned up to stare hard at him. She didn't stop him from touching their newest family member, so when he felt the soft downy fur of her puppy coat beneath his rough paw pads, some of the tension carried in his shoulders melting away. He missed Manea dismissing Irilyth, the blonde fae slinking back out to give the alpha pair their privacy. Manea admitted that she hadn't named their child yet. For some reason, this surprised Alastor. He assumed she would have just taken care of everything, like she had with their other children, like she did with everything. He heard the rough and broken edges of her voice, thick with emotion, but he couldn't bring himself to feel any sort of sympathy for her in this moment. This had been her doing. Yes, he knew what he'd been signing up for when he agreed to be her mate, but he had also been a vastly different wolf then. More ruthless, less feeling, a carnivore bent on death and destruction and debauchery. Domestic life had tempered that beast, caged the animal inside him that seldom saw the light of day any longer. This, however, had broken that new Alastor, and through the fractures some of the old Alastor began to peer through.

Manea said she couldn't name their daughter without him and he merely scoffed. Of course she could have. What would she have done if he hadn't come back at all? What if one of the many bears or walruses or boars or elk he'd slaughtered out in the wild lands had been his demise? Would she have simply crumbled and collapsed? Manea's posture tensed, and her voice shifted as anger flooded her words, chastising him for daring to accuse her of not caring. His head gave a bit of a nonchalant tilt when she asked if he thought she wanted or enjoyed killing their children. "Maybe," he murmured with a dark inflection to his deep voice. "You do take pride in your work and your beliefs." It was a cold accusation for sure, but seeing her snap their children's necks so readily after how she had behaved with their twins, it left the brute with doubts. He hadn't wanted to believe that Manea took any pleasure in doing what she did, but it had to take a certain kind of demented to end their lives after carrying them for weeks with such love and joy. Either Manea had enjoyed it, or she was so deeply ingrained into her beliefs that she would have done anything instructed of her. Alastor didn't know which made her worse.

His train of thought was derailed when he felt her leonine paw smack his away from their daughter then, turning irate eyes up to glower with lethal anger at her. He saw how drained and beaten she looked, haggard and threadbare. But by doing so, Manea would also see the emotion he was fighting to hide. Feral rage, crushing heartbreak and reviled uselessness swarmed in his empty eyes like a vicious maelstrom. He'd allowed Manea to kill his children for her asinine beliefs because he had been weak. This was his fault and he paid the price for it in his blood. He'd had all the chance to stop her, yet he'd done nothing. He'd allowed himself to fall to inaction because he supported her, wanted to believe for her, and all he was left with was two dead pups and a broken mind. He felt no closer to the salvation she spoke of with his soul, no more worthy of an afterlife with her or his family. If anything, he felt further away from it. So how could she lie there, claim the same devastation he felt, all while also believing in this fictitious paradise in the otherworld waiting for her when all he knew he would face was oblivion.

Manea explained why she had to do it and Alastor stared at her hard for a long, silent minute. Then he gave a hard, manic laugh, his expression contorted into that crazed smile of a madman that she'd met him with all those years ago. "For her soul?!" he repeated in hard incredulity. "Manea, we have no souls." Alastor rose to his paws and stormed away from her again, moving back to the shelves so he could pick up two more vials, downing their contents quietly before tossing them aside to shatter with a crash against the far stone wall. "Each and every one of us is damned. Me for the plethora of sins I've committed. You for the gleeful infanticide you commit. Our children are the only ones with hopes of any kind of afterlife that doesn't involve darkness or fire, and you just snuffed two of them out. Why?" He turned to sneer at her, onyx lips pulled back from pearly white fangs as black fire smoldered in his berserk eyes. "Because everyone else expected you to. You have no proof of any of these claims you make. Not you, not one member of your family—no one! You say these pretty words and make your incantations and rituals, but you have no evidence. Nothing to show that our children are somewhere better. Nothing to prove your soul is worth anything more. And nothing to prove that mine isn't destined for the same damnation."

Alastor growled low in his throat, pacing against the far wall while he sought out another vial of the medication Irilyth had made for him in secret. When he found the vial, he downed its contents, feeling the drugs tugging at the splintering parts of his mind. Clutching to the glass bottle in one large black paw, Alastor slammed it down on the ground, shattering the glass with a crunch and embedding the shard into his paw pads. The pain was barely felt compared to the other wounds he bore, but the sting remained as he bled. "Look at me, Manea. Look at me!" He turned his head slowly to set his trembling gaze on his mate, still smiling that manic smile, but the look in his eyes entirely different. They were pained, desperate. "I'm a monster. I'm broken. And joining your family didn't fix me. My soul is so far beyond being saved. There is nothing left for me. I will never see my children again, and no amount of bloody rituals is going to fix that." The multitude of drugs Alastor had downed in the span of a few minutes were beginning to kick in, sedating the wild wolf to the point where he slumped back on his haunches, barely holding himself upright. Or perhaps that was the blood loss; it was difficult to say for sure. Alastor's eyes fell from Manea to their sleeping daughter again, feeling each beat of his heart send more blood rushing through his veins to spill from the numerous lacerations on his body, leaving trails of crimson splatters on the den floor. "You have your beliefs and your family to fall back on for comfort. For justification. I have nothing, Manea. I watched you slaughter our children and all I have now is nothing." Alastor's shoulders slumped further, his posture weakening by the moment. A sadness uncharacteristic to him crept over his expression as his eyes darkened further. "You should never have taken me as your mate."

"Alastor Mendacium"

Manea's gaze never left him as he mocked the idea of doing any of this for their daughter's soul, insisting that they in fact didn't have them. A frown creased her features as she watched him with growing frustration and worry, bewildered as he stormed back over to the shelving along the wall of their den and started grabbing vials from the collection of extracts and herbs that they kept on hand. She didn't know the use of most of them and mostly just trusted Irilyth to give them what they needed, but now Alastor was downing them as if they were water , making her flinch slightly as he threw them aside and caused them to shatter and it made an anxious fear creep up her spine. She tried to interrupt him as he began to rant about how both of them were damned for their sins and how their children were the only ones saved of it, questioning him, "Alastor, what did you just take?" But he didn't seem to hear her as he went on, looking at her with an insane look in his eye and a snarl on his lips.

She paid just enough attention to what he was saying to gather the bits about how they had no proof, how they only spoke their words and rituals without evidence. She heard what he was saying, but she wasn't processing it yet. Her mind was still reeling, her gaze flicking worriedly to the shattered shards of glass. "Alastor..." she said in the middle of his speech, unable to stop him to even find out what it was he had taken. He growled and started to pace again and she saw him reach for another vial. "Alastor!" she said louder, more insistently, but he tossed this one back just as quickly before she could stop him and a dread and fear of the unknown substance ate at her, making the anger and exhaustion she felt pale in comparison to her fear over the well being and life of her husband. He insisted that she look at him, but she already was. Her eyes never left him, watching him with concern as he turned his tormented gaze toward her. He wore the manic smile that she had become familiar with across his expression, but the pain in his eyes tore at her as if he had sunk his claws into her chest. He spoke of being a monster, of how he was too far gone to be saved, and she was so incredibly frustrated with him that he couldn't see himself the way she saw him.

As he began to slump down from what ever it was he took, the anxiety he caused finally pushed her to her feet. The moment she managed to stand she staggered for a moment, the world spinning until she was able to regain her balance and take a few deep breaths. Having not slept properly for the couple of days leading up to her birth, the intense labor she endured, the draining and tormenting day she had just gone through, and the fact that she still hadn't properly slept or ate for the entire day nearly made her fall over again, but she managed to stay on her feet and at least managed to make sure their daughter was safely tucked into some of the bedding before she took a few heavy, struggling steps over to where he was sitting. She listened as he said how he had nothing to fall back on, how he had watched her kill their children and he was left with nothing as she crossed toward him, gritting her teeth as he said how she should have never taken him as her mate.

She collapsed onto her haunches directly in front of him, her breathing labored as she caught her breath from the small movement that had knocked the wind out of her. They were both in no state to be having these conversations, but it had to be done. They were ripping themselves to shreds and if she had any hope of holding onto what tattered pieces they had left she had to reel back in the Alastor she knew and loved. "It has never been about the pretty words or the fancy rituals. Those are just a side effect, a formality... Our proof is a lineage of wolves who are strong, equipped to deal with this harsh, unforgiving word. It's not easy, it's not gleeful. I do not want to kill our children. A piece of me died with each of them and I'll never get them back." Her voice strained and broke the more she spoke, her already tired, aching eyes beginning to fill with tears again. "But I do it because I know our tiny girl was the runt of the litter with vibrant coloring who would only ever be able to hunt small game at best because any prey would see her coming from a mile away and she wouldn't have any other tools at her disposal to make up for it. I do it because our boy would have grown as tall and heavily built as you, if not more, and would have to deal with the way a body like that degrades more quickly than others and he wouldn't have any kind of tools to give him an upper hand in fights to make up for his lack of speed or mobility." She knew it was logic and truth that would be hard to hear just as it was hard to say it, but this was how they decided who had the best chance of carrying on their legacy and surviving in a world that was hardly kind on a good day.

"Yes, I have obligations to our family as the Matriarch and I would be lying if I said that have some sort of sway in my choices, but I truly only want our child to have the best chance at survival. That is why we do what we do. Whether or not you believe that our daughter now has a complete Ancient soul from our ancestors and all of the strength of the Ancients at her back is up to you... All that really matters is that you know that she..." she added softly, glancing back at the fire-marked girl waiting for them in the soft bedding, "She is the best of both of us." She looked back to Alastor, desperately hoping that she was finding even a single thing that he could hold onto for solace the way it did for her. Manea glanced down at the pieces of glass that were scattered on the floor around his paws and she reached out, lifting his paw to look at the glass that was embedded in his paw pads. "What did you take?" she asked, with concern, her gaze coming back to his face with a flick of her ears as she prepared to call for Irilyth the very moment he told her if it had been something dangerous. They would need Irilyth anyway for his wounds and the blood loss he was no doubt beginning to feel the effects of, but what he had just drank three vials of was much more concerning to her in that moment.

"Manea Mendacium"

Alastor hadn't been paying any attention to Manea when she asked him what he had taken after the first vial of medication. He had heard her calling his name, but he was far too gone in his own twisted headspace to comprehend what she wanted. Finally, when she yelled his name, she caught his attention mid-rant. He watched her shift and move, struggling to get to her paws as her weak and fatigued body protested the movements. She settled their sleeping daughter into the furs, and then she began to make her way over to him. Alastor's fur bristled and his body went tense with anxiousness. Dammit, couldn't she see he was trying to keep away from her?! He wasn't stable, he wasn't safe! Yet here she came towards him like he wasn't a few threads away from wanting to tear her and himself apart. Dammit, Manea, always having to push his boundaries!

Abyssal eyes followed her every movement as the violet queen shambled her way up to him and then collapsed to her haunches before him, looking absolutely beat and exhausted. Both of the Mendacium wolves were a sight: Manea bedraggled and fatigued to the point of barely sitting up, and Alastor soaked in his own blood and looking like he was about to have a mental breakdown. Fortunately the drugs he'd taken were already starting to tether his mind back together, much to the chagrin of the feral animal within, and the cage was starting to rebuild itself once more. Manea spoke, explaining to him that their lifestyle and beliefs had never been about the rituals, but about the lineage of their family. She lamented having to kill their children, expressing the same sorrow and pain he suffered through. Then she explained the why, calling out every flaw or imperfection in their children that would have handicapped them or reduced their quality of life. Alastor snorted, his nostrils flaring in vexation, but did not interrupt her. He could never see any of his children as anything less than perfect. Perhaps that blinded him to reality, and the mad wolf very seldom lived within the realm of reality. But logically, it made sense. It was survival of the fittest, the best chance for their genes to survive.

Manea spoke truly and earnestly with him, explaining that as the Matriarch of their family her beliefs would always impact her decisions, but they weren't the only factors she considered. Again she spoke of "complete souls" and the power of the Ancients, and Alastor huffed and made no effort to hide the way he rolled his eyes. Again, the pretty claims of souls and power with no proof to back it up. It was the same as every other religious zealot nut he'd encountered. It was the same false bill of goods he'd been sold by Lurid who claimed his soul was special and grand and a part of the Amarix dynasty, only to have him commit atrocities in her name and vanish, leaving him worse for wear and damned to hellfire. "Well, the Ancients got two more dead pups, so I hope they're fucking happy... We don't even know if she has any of those 'special powers' you talk about," he muttered underneath a growling sigh. As far as they could see, the pup was as normal as her siblings had been. Did that mean her "Ancients" had given them children with no gifts? That didn't bode well for Manea's claims of completing souls and granting power. There was one thing he did have to agree to, however: their children were the best of both of them. Ebony eyes softened when he followed Manea's gaze to their sleeping daughter, feeling that paternal pull to go wrap himself around his child to keep her safe from everything. "That she is..."

Alastor's gaze only left the slumbering fireball of a pup when he felt Manea's paws lifting his, glancing at her while she triaged his injuries. The shards of glass in his black paw caught the light like he were studded with diamonds, the glass glistening from around the rivulets of blood they produced from him. She asked once more what he had taken, but the combination of blood loss and the sedatives mixed in with his medicine were beginning to turn his mind sluggish and hazy. Maybe taking three doses at once hadn't been a good idea, but the giant of a wolf hadn't wanted to take any chances with his wife and newborn around his demon. "Medicine... Drugs..." he mumbled under his breath. "Irilyth made it so I could stay in control. I didn't want to hurt you or her." Hopefully Manea would understand what he meant. He didn't know if he had the energy or the mental fortitude remaining to go into greater details about how he had so nearly come untethered earlier that he'd actually dared to consider murdering her in their own bed.

"Alastor Mendacium"

It felt like an up hill climb that she didn't have the energy to take trying to get Alastor to see what was right in front of him, but she understood how ridiculous it seemed. No one else she had ever encountered would consider murdering innocent pups for their own sake or for the benefit of only one of them. They would pour all of their resources and energy into supporting and raising the weakest of them if that's what it took in hopes that one day it would all be worth it and they would be able to stand on their own. Their way of thinking was cold and logical and hard for even her to think about at times, but she truly didn't want any of her children to have to suffer and struggle through a life they never asked for.

She could see that as hard as her reasoning was to hear it was at least more palatable for him than any other explanation she had offered so far so she at least took that as a small fraction of a victory. Speaking about the Ancients and the soul they provided for their children only brought more skepticism and disbelief, but she had expected it. That was always the hardest thing to convey and the last thing that anyone was willing to believe because it wasn't a tangible thing that could be pointed to, but she was attempting to take it one thing at a time. The way his gaze softened when he looked to their daughter gave her a small bit of hope, a glimmer of the wolf she needed so badly in this moment, and it was enough encouragement for her to keep going and keep trying.

It was obvious that he was barely holding on just as she was at this point as he finally gave her an answer for what he had taken. She had to decipher his broken response, but it at least made her give a soft, shaky sigh of relief once she did. Medicine prepared by Irilyth to help him stay in control so he wouldn't hurt her or their daughter. She had no idea how much of it he was supposed to take or how much was harmful to him, but at the very least it wasn't some sort of poison that she had feared it to be. With that fear subsided, she went to gently place his paw back on the ground and when she did she caught a small glimmer of his mostly hidden gemstone claws. It made her stop, still holding his injured paw slightly in midair as her strained and exhausted mind started to stitch something together. His questioning over the 'special powers' that their unnamed daughter might have, the reason behind the culling that they performed, the demands to see proof of the power and strength of their souls... It was right in front of her the whole time and she just didn't know how to show him.

"You wanted proof that being a part of this family made any kind of difference for you and your soul..." she said to him quietly as she brought her gaze back up to his, hoping that his foggy mind wasn't too far gone to understand. Her other paw lifted, brushing across the top of his toes. "These claws, your long, flowing fur... Those happened after we met, after we were married, after Avacyn and Saracyn were born. The Ancients can't change your soul, they only create the outward reflection of what it already is." Her paw moved from his up to his cheek, cupping it gently while she tried to hold his focus long enough to get the realization across. "Our children are already born with their gifts, but your true gifts only appeared after the real you showed through... A man that would tear the world apart for his children." She let that sink in, the realization hitting her as well and her thoughts scrambling to consider the ramifications of these facts, but for now she knew she needed to get Irilyth in here to finally patch him up now that she was confident that he wouldn't tear into Irilyth for touching him.

"Irilyth!" she called as she let her paw slip from his cheek and gently released his paw. "Bring supplies to mend Alastor's wounds!" She shifted a bit, helping to guide Alastor down to the ground as she told him quietly, "Lay down... Sitting up isn't doing you any good." Once he had followed her directions she managed to get herself back to her paws, slowly walking over to where their daughter was laying. She had just begun to stir and wake up with squeaks and cries and Manea nuzzled her tenderly. She was too tired to think about anything than her relief that Alastor was here and alive. The doubts of her own family and beliefs, the fact that Alastor's criticism some how reaffirmed her own faith somehow, and their fragmented relationship got put behind the most basic and simple emotions. It was all her frayed body could handle right now.

While Irilyth went to work patching up Alastor to mend him after the rampage he went on, she gently picked up their girl by the scruff and carried her over to where Alastor was laying. The way he softened for her didn't slip past her and at this point she just wanted to give him any kind of relief she could. She placed the squeaking girl between his paws before she laid down beside him with a heavy sigh. She was quiet for a few moments, just watching him with her for a bit, before she said, "She still needs a name." She tried to give him a little smile, resting a paw over his foreleg.

"Manea Mendacium"