There is both elation and sadness in the trek across Molodian with her mate's side pressed to her, urging her onward even when her strength seems to be flagging. Elation that soon the children in her womb would be coming for even though contractions had yet to start she knew, just knew, that it would soon be upon her. Call it a mothers intuition or maybe it was the way they had begun to play a game of tag in her stomach. The weight of her pregnancy had grown to be uncomfortable with the children often digging into her ribcage as they shifted around and even in pregnancy she had grown thinner due to their demanding appetite. She had eaten ravenously and often. Fenrir had not let her waste away and he had run himself into exhaustion but they had now to press onward to a new home, perhaps, though it cause a spark of worry in her. Sven was back in Spirane sick and yet what was Natu to do? She would not birth her children without Fenrir by her side - just looking at that fierce visage next to her she knew that Fenrir would not have left even if asked.

Fenrir was ever gentle with her and yet firm, coaxing her on even when she paused and flinched at a sudden stab of pain from the shifting bodies within her. Even when she wanted only to rest and sleep a million years. The mountains faded at their backs until the land began to dip and flatten and the trees gave way to meadows. Endless meadows with copses of trees gathered together. It was lovely, really, with all the wildflowers in bloom but the sun was bright and she was hot and rapidly becoming pained.

Somewhere in the midst of all their walking she had begun contractions. She had mistaken them for the children moving but as they paused on the borders with her alabaster paw pausing and her heart pounding. This was a turning point for her and she felt as if all she was had begun to wash away but her ice blue eyes turned to catch the pale green of Fenrir's and a breath of warm air coated her lungs with much needed release. "I love you," she whispers softly to him before grimacing as her abdomen squeezes. "But we've got to hurry," she chokes out and they are rushing along, her mouth slowly opening to let out pants until she finds herself before an opening. How she got there she did not know, all had been focused down to the children in her womb that demanded release. Fenrir had assured her that Iblis and Rhae would be welcoming for he often slept here with his own pack brothers and she found that the den she entered was a shared housing. It split off into different tunnels and dens, a well constructed housing, and his black figure urged her into the correct one.

It smelled of him and cocooned in his scent she drops down finally, closing her eyes as the contractions finally are allowed free reign. Her ears press to her head as the pain rolls through her - this part she had forgotten about. Time dulled the memories of pain. She yelped suddenly as the first of their children became lodged in her passageway and her breath was broken by whimpers; he was huge. Pressing and stretching and hurting. Her eyes, watery and pain filled, turn to look for Fenrir to seek his comfort. It seems like forever that she is suspended, her sides heaving endlessly like waves and each breath punctuated by a grunt or a whimper. Inch by inch it seems and then there is a sudden sensation of release as their firstborn son comes sliding out in a gory mess while she simultaneous heaves a breath of relief, momentary at least.

She doesn't get a chance to look down at him, at her Arthfael, before his brother is right on his heels and launching himself straight out of her in a quick manner. She sighs as the weight inside of her diminishes significantly but Natu knows it is not over. There are more children hiding in there but for a moment she has a break, her contractions easing while she stretches her head around to look at the two before her. Black and white and gray - they are both beautiful and squirming and nasty. Oh so nasty but she smiles suddenly, a bright moment in the pain. "Fenrir, look, sons," she whispers hoarsely before clenching her eyes closed as the contractions begin once more.

Again it feels as if her third child is lodged just as the first was and she growls suddenly before it turns into a yelp as he stretches her walls once more and then slides out. Black, so black, so beautiful. "That is all," she huffs suddenly, laying her head onto the dirt floor while her lungs scream for air and her body screams for rest. A stirring in her belly is all the warning she gets as the last child, the one she does not realize is there, comes hurtling out with gusto, not to be outdone by her brothers and is immediately followed by the afterbirth.

Without them weighing her down she feels empty. Empty and pained and dizzy from the blood that pools around her hips. Natu drags her head around now to gaze upon her sons and daughter, eyes shining with exhaustion and pride, and she begins to lick them tenderly, to clean away the gunk clinging to them. "Arthfael, Alistair, Alexander, and Ankh. Come Fenrir. Look at our children."