So much had been happening and yet she had been confined to her den for the most part - alone, of course. Swallowbane's absences were to expected and seldom did they prove themselves to be short lived; this, she thought, is what her very soul desired though. Without him entirely, it would have been much worst. Besides, with her swollen abdomen, she found the urge to venture outside subside. For almost a week she had been holed up completely, living off of small vermin that might have passed. It was not the best, and certainly not like it had been with Mater and Pater but nonetheless, she trusted her body and her boy. A week had passed since she had retreated entirely and that was when the pain had begun. At first it was merely uncomfortable, forcing her to shift about and pace restlessly but no sooner did it become too much to handle. She whined and whimpered in her despair, crammed into the very bowels of her den.

It took hours, or so she thought at least, before the pain changed into something sudden. And them, something moved out of her and instantly she panicked - she had not imagined it would be like that at all. Instincts demanded she tend to it however despite her reservations and soon enough the pup was between her paws, cleaned and yet... Nothing. There was no scream, no rise and fall of its lungs and even though pain continued to devour her body, she paid no heed. She was too focused on the child between her paws, the pup that did not move nor cry. No, she couldn't bring herself to look away and she nudged at it, whining, in a futile effort to bring life to the child. She'd only be pulled away from it when the next came, one whom was greeted by a yowl of pain.

She was greeted again by silence and she whined, tempted to break into a howl of anguish before she noticed the undeniable rise and fall of his tiny chest. Alive! He was alive! Instantly she shuffled around, finally paying little heed to the stillborn as she cleaned her son. Desperately she pushed him to her belly, nudging him closer and closer until he was at her teat. He was so much like his father even in the dim light and yet, his face was lighter, more her own. It baffled her and yet the moment was short lived - they were to have another visitor.

The final pup came easier this time, his body smaller than his brother and yet he cried out with the voice of all three of them, kicking about wildly. He was bright, too, a vivid white underlined by black and cinnamon - an Angel, or so her family would say. To her, however, he gained a title not only for his birth right but because he was alive! He was healthy! He cuddled atop his larger, silent brother and squealed in delight as he fed. The first had been born without breath, the second without sound and yet the Gods had smiled upon her in the end, giving her a healthy son. He was the compassion of god, he was mercy upon she and Swallowbane.

"Wren," she finally breathed as the pain subsided, nudging her quiet son as he fed. If he could not sing then she would be sure that the birds did for him.

"Ramiel," - she nudged her third born, having named him for what he was.

Over the first, she whispered her prayers, sending her soul to heaven to smile down upon them along side Zeivah and all the others. As she did so, she dug until she could no more, leaving the tiny girl's body to rest, to become one with the earth once more. She'd rest then, and only then, a deep sleep that would put her mind at peace.