moonstone daydreams

It was time.

Holed up in the very back of her cavernous home, protected from the violent of the high altitude elements, Lirika felt the first contractions. She had never really learned much about giving birth, as no one had expected her to have children anywhere but her homeland. Her mother had not lived long enough to teach her about the birds and the bees. Now, she had a vague concept of what to do- one part instinct and another part half remembered lessons from her youth. She paced the confines of the warm zone, wondering what she should do first. Walking felt better, her dark paws moved and stimulated the muscles around her womb.

Daring to step out into the open for even the briefest of moments felt like too much of a risk. She took it anyway. Called out in a sonorous voice for Mr. Morningstar. He would want to be present for the birth of his children, right? Sucking a deep breath as the convulsions in her gut intensified, she returned to the back of the cave. A nest of dried foliage and patchy animal skins had been her best attempt on such short notice.

Sprawling out on one side, she let her head rest against the floor for a while. Panting like a maniac wasn't good- she needed to calm down. Mercury gaze would slide closed, as she focused on the sound of the wind howling across the open mouth of the cave. Timed her breaths with her heartbeat, and the wind drowned out her anxieties. A massive roll of contractions shook her belly. The first one was coming. "Zhiva bless me." She invoked the creator's wife, praying that she would give her living children.

Lean frame meant that any bulky children would risk killing her and the remaining offspring. She prayed to anyone who would listen that they would be safely born, murmuring softly in harsh vowels of Russian.

One down. There wasn't much time, but she lifted her head to collect the little bundle. The protective sac had been broken on this one, and clung loosely across its back. A little girl. She was black in the face, and grey all over. Earlier generations would have culled her then, a child who wasn't blessed by Svarog. However, blue skin peeked out around her mouth and nose, in tiny little toes. This was not the Dark Times, not anymore. The child was pulled to her bosom, where hopefully she would begin to nurse. Tender strokes of her tongue along her body were offered, making sure the pup knew she was loved.

Time to admire her firstborn was cut short, and another wave of dizzying contractions hit. It was time to deliver the next, there was no time to wait. She stretched back out, letting her body do the work. As the contraction struck, she forced herself to push through the pain. Just like that, another child was born. Goodness, she didn't think her body to be capable of nurturing more than one. Wheezing with the effort, she curled around her belly to scoop up this child as well.

A soft gasp struck her, auds tipping back. Pure and unmarred white, blessed by the Father God of her line. The sac was draped over her shoulders like a tiny cape. Tears welled in her eyes, and she brushed her tongue over the spine of the sweet bundle. Already she knew she needed to take them to her homeland, so the Shaman may look the children over. Now, she knew that this litter was blessed. She tucked this daughter against her stomach as well, warming her body against the other girl and her own thick fur.

It seemed over now, two precious daughters. She would need to take the afterbirth to the entrance of the cave, and leave it to the creators. Deep, even breaths were heaved through her chest as she worked through the last of her labour. It didn't take much to expel the small sac. The phantom reached to pluck it from the cave floor, and found within it a squirming pup. Oh! Tearing it open as gently as she could, she pulled the tiniest of the litter free. This one was quite pale, but bore the marks of her sire as well. Gentle, affectionate kisses were pressed against the petite skull of the runt. Without hesitation, she was pressed tight to her bosom as well.

Three beautiful daughters. The Gods had favoured her, even in her advancing age. Lirika couldn't stop smiling. She didn't want to leave them, but her obligation to the creators bade her step away now. As the placenta was expelled, she carefully took it in her mouth- rupturing it would be a dark omen upon the litter. Carrying it quickly away from the children, she placed it near the mouth of the cave. A tiny pile of powdery snow had accumulated within the confines of the cavern, and she placed it there. Zhibog and Zhiva would consume it as they saw fit in the next few days.

"Many thanks, Mokosh." She murmured in her native tongue, settling down around her brood. It was time to rest, until their father arrived. Then, she would name them all.