Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma Ma Baker

Absinth woke with a start. A low growl climbing out of her throat as she tossed and turned. Frustration eked out of her, lips curled upwards as she sneered in distaste. She’d finally managed to drift into a restless sleep, after a day filled with immense discomfort. More so than the past few weeks at least. Exponentially so.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting its pale glow over the winter expanse of the sound. She lay nestled in the safety of her bedding, the monochromatic fur along her disciplined framework, save for the swell of babes in her belly, glistening faintly in the dim light. Her breath came in shallow, labored pants as the first waves of labor washed over her. “Ugh.” She heaved herself up onto four paws, and began to pace in the spacious underground den.

Each contraction was a reminder of the life she carried, the culmination of months of anticipation and pride. The cold night air seeped into the den, mingling with the scent of earth and fur, but Absinth paid it no mind. Her world had narrowed to the rhythmic pulsing of her pain and the beating of her heart. “Fuckkk.” Despite the agony coursing through her, her emerald eyes shone with hardy determination. This was it, a moment of truth, her fucking reckoning.

wormwood