I have seen females prepare to take on the burden their bodies must carry to provide us with a future. I have been witness to it each time Ishtar has all but disappeared while with Baphomet. I grow restless, killing enough to keep up my strength, but never, never straying far from her side as they began to well with the life we created. I not once wavered as she killed whatever crossed her path, reveling in her appetite. The way her sides began to bow out, I was half afraid the pups would split her open, their movements visible as we lay within the den. I did not sleep within the hole with her, and as the scent of death grew, so it began to cling to my pelt, like demonic cologne. I wear the scent of her rotting barricade proudly, for only I am allowed near enough the entrance right now. Though the previous pups will come to visit, none other save for the healer will get passed me to her. I simply will not allow it.

My form paces this night, circling around her nightmarish den site, listening to her within it. Growling and raging internally to fate that she gives Ishtar this pain. True demons are a bitch to birth, though strong mothers often make it through. The weak die, this is a matter of fact. If a female is not strong enough to whelp, she is not fit enough to be alive. We need our females, they provide us a luxury we can not afford to lose, but...Nature's law is supreme in all lands. Midnight pelt mixes with the dark misty shadows of Iromar as I revolve around my love's den. I hear her pain, and my entire body rages that I cannot enter. This is something she does alone. I cannot be still, even as I listen to her suffering be temporarily withheld. My breathing stills, my entire body is humming with pent up aggression and worry, muscles tense as I anxiously await my first children.

I hate this waiting, this constant inability to fathom what condition my mate could be in. Something wicked crawls into my brain, that whiff of blood coming from the bolt hole alerting me to what has been transpiring, but I give nothing away at this back exit. Instead, I move around to the main entrance, ears pricking to catch the sounds of Paldor. My hackles stand on end as I move around to face him, silver eyes with fires for pupils locked onto his pale form. I restrain myself, his offer of aid desperately needing an answer as I silently watch them. Hoping my love is alright, hoping I get to see and name my first born. I catch a glimpse of my Ishtar and my gaze softens just slightly as I attempt to catch her yellow gaze. My ears tilt forward to hear her response, silently waiting to be needed. Ready or not, here they are. Now I simply must wait to get this white male out of my way.