Post by Vithali on Jan 28, 2010 17:31:18 GMT -5
Vithali assumed she would have been driven mad by the order to stay put and not do anything too extraneous. She assumed she would have to sneak off and run the Moor. But in the past few weeks of staying with the Amber Moor pack, she found that, since she couldn’t do much more than waddle around with determination to exercise her and her pups, she really had no desire to go out onto the Moorland. Or run. Or jump around. Or scout or hunt or really do much of anything except eat and clean the dens repeatedly. Nights were becoming longer as the pups grew larger and they kept her awake with their frequent kicking and movements. Sometimes she was to hot to sleep, then she was too cold. Usually by morning, she was way too crabby to smile and forced everyone to endure her pain with her by subjecting them to endless hours of talk which usually ended up with her in tears.
She soon came to the conclusion that she was done being pregnant. Her emotions couldn’t take it, which was saying something.
But tonight was different. As she lay on her side in a den by herself, the pups were oddly immobile and her stomach hurt. It worried her, especially since she was later than she assumed she would be. She had paced the den site repeatedly, hoping she didn’t wake anyone up. Her heart rate had risen randomly and she was panting hard. Last week she had scouted out a place near the shoreline, on green, grassy bank close to where the river was. She had found an old, abandoned fox den, big enough just for her and her pups. She had dug around and cleaned it out, knowing well that no one else would be able to get much more of their head through it but for some reason, she was okay with that. Instinct had torn her away from the safety of the pack dens.
When the pups were older, she would introduce them to the rest of the pack. For now, she would expect visits from Crispin and trust that he would deliver news back and forth on how the pups were doing.
Suddenly she stopped in her tracks as a jabbed pain spasmed through her body, leaving her breathless. The pups began to move around and she whimpered quietly. Something told her that now would be a good time to go to her makeshift den now.
She turned to go but then looked back to her pack. Should she tell them? Should someone go with her? She sighed and slowly poked her head into the den that Heron slept in, she whimpered loudly but drew away, still unsure. She loved her three legged but wondered what she could do to help . . .
Impatient with herself, Vithali started making tracks out of the den site, taking a confusing, uncertain course that would be hard to track? Did she not want to found? With a sigh, she sped up, whimpering as her pups moved around painfully.
Hold on . . . Just hold on . . . Mommy’s not ready yet . . .
It seemed to take forever until she reached the den. She had taken the longest and most complicated course she could. It would hard to track. But finally she had reached her birthing den. She sniffed around it, making sure that nothing had disturbed it.
With a hard swallow, she pointed her muzzle to the distant Mountains and called out with her distinct voice, hoping Crispin wouldn’t be long, or that he or his brothers had heard her. She whimpered and turned around, sniffing again.
When she was certain that it was safe, she took a deep breath and slipped inside, lying down in the far corner, claws digging into the soft soil as another spasm of pain came over her.
Gritting her teeth, she let nature take its course.
Sun light was peeking through the den hours later and Vithali was panting heavily, very tired now, but she was done. It was over. And the sound of whimpering pups filled her ears. Between her paws rested the last born, the smallest. The second female. Vithali paused in her licking to look down at the other two that were suckling, smiling proudly.
She had done it; all by herself.
Ash would be proud.
The eldest and strongest was female, with light red fur just like her second smaller sister. The second born was the only male, poor lad. And he was doing well too, though he seemed slightly smaller than his sister right now. His darker coat pleased Vithali to no end. He was going to look just like her! But with a worried sigh, she turned to face the smallest pup in her large paws. The little fae’s body was cold again. Determinedly, Vithali continued to lick her.
She was whimpering or crying, she hadn’t made a peep at all. Her little mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. More determinedly, driven by the panic that was being pushed to the back of her mind, she licked the little female with more vigor, keeping her little body warm.
“Come on . . . you’ve got to be alright.”
Vithali’s heart hammered against her chest, her voice squeeking.
She soon came to the conclusion that she was done being pregnant. Her emotions couldn’t take it, which was saying something.
But tonight was different. As she lay on her side in a den by herself, the pups were oddly immobile and her stomach hurt. It worried her, especially since she was later than she assumed she would be. She had paced the den site repeatedly, hoping she didn’t wake anyone up. Her heart rate had risen randomly and she was panting hard. Last week she had scouted out a place near the shoreline, on green, grassy bank close to where the river was. She had found an old, abandoned fox den, big enough just for her and her pups. She had dug around and cleaned it out, knowing well that no one else would be able to get much more of their head through it but for some reason, she was okay with that. Instinct had torn her away from the safety of the pack dens.
When the pups were older, she would introduce them to the rest of the pack. For now, she would expect visits from Crispin and trust that he would deliver news back and forth on how the pups were doing.
Suddenly she stopped in her tracks as a jabbed pain spasmed through her body, leaving her breathless. The pups began to move around and she whimpered quietly. Something told her that now would be a good time to go to her makeshift den now.
She turned to go but then looked back to her pack. Should she tell them? Should someone go with her? She sighed and slowly poked her head into the den that Heron slept in, she whimpered loudly but drew away, still unsure. She loved her three legged but wondered what she could do to help . . .
Impatient with herself, Vithali started making tracks out of the den site, taking a confusing, uncertain course that would be hard to track? Did she not want to found? With a sigh, she sped up, whimpering as her pups moved around painfully.
Hold on . . . Just hold on . . . Mommy’s not ready yet . . .
It seemed to take forever until she reached the den. She had taken the longest and most complicated course she could. It would hard to track. But finally she had reached her birthing den. She sniffed around it, making sure that nothing had disturbed it.
With a hard swallow, she pointed her muzzle to the distant Mountains and called out with her distinct voice, hoping Crispin wouldn’t be long, or that he or his brothers had heard her. She whimpered and turned around, sniffing again.
When she was certain that it was safe, she took a deep breath and slipped inside, lying down in the far corner, claws digging into the soft soil as another spasm of pain came over her.
Gritting her teeth, she let nature take its course.
* * *
Sun light was peeking through the den hours later and Vithali was panting heavily, very tired now, but she was done. It was over. And the sound of whimpering pups filled her ears. Between her paws rested the last born, the smallest. The second female. Vithali paused in her licking to look down at the other two that were suckling, smiling proudly.
She had done it; all by herself.
Ash would be proud.
The eldest and strongest was female, with light red fur just like her second smaller sister. The second born was the only male, poor lad. And he was doing well too, though he seemed slightly smaller than his sister right now. His darker coat pleased Vithali to no end. He was going to look just like her! But with a worried sigh, she turned to face the smallest pup in her large paws. The little fae’s body was cold again. Determinedly, Vithali continued to lick her.
She was whimpering or crying, she hadn’t made a peep at all. Her little mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. More determinedly, driven by the panic that was being pushed to the back of her mind, she licked the little female with more vigor, keeping her little body warm.
“Come on . . . you’ve got to be alright.”
Vithali’s heart hammered against her chest, her voice squeeking.
