Shell in your pocket

Of all the wolves that could have come to her aid, why did it have to be one of the smallest members of the pack. He was carrying something round and bright, and as she coughed and spluttered and flailed, she accepted the fact that she was going to die out here, drowning on her way home because some goddamn child wanted to show off his new toy.

As he got closer and pushed the ring towards her she realised it was floating and clung to the ring with her front legs, pushing it down under the surface of the water as she tried to scramble on top of it. The device sunk under her weight and she quickly realised she could only support her front end above the water, but she was grateful for any assistance when the next wave of contractions took her over.

Modesty barely registered the ring being towed to the beach, that her toes were digging into the sand as she stumbled, gasping and wretching salt water from her lungs. She tried to pull herself further up the beach as the first child was born, the force of her fight for air expelling the brown mass into the shallow waves. Luckily the pup was so large that his head didn't dip below the water lapping  at the isle's shore. She didn't have time to do more than scoop the child further up the sand before the next one was coming. Of course she couldn't have the quiet, peaceful family experience she had been craving her whole damn pregnancy, could she? Nothing the raiders did was free from chaos.

“Speech.”