[In case you cannot read her speech font, the text is scroll over to print <3]

Not one day has passed since my meeting with Isola. I wondered if she still suspected my motives, or if the smooth and silvered tongue my father graced me with worked for her. To assume a wolf could contain such a group of wolves. No, I did not control them, we were as equals. We stood unified in our dominance over the land. We are the hunters of those who would hunt, whether it is bear or wolf or cougar. It was in Diveen that I first felt the tightening in my abdomen that signaled I would be Mother to a new litter of Night-touched wolves. Reaver is mine, no other can touch him, though they are more than welcome to try. Either way, I had to hastily excuse myself from Isola's presence, and make my way home as quickly as I could.

It hurt, the pressure was enormous in my womb, becoming crippling and making me stop all motion and ride the contractions out. I had been lucky to find the cliff side den. Only one path could be taken, though I had not anticipated being this large, I did have the foresight to make certain I could make the climb, though Reaver I had yet to test. If he attempted to kill them, I would take him to the rocks below. I adore him, love him even, but I will not tolerate an attack on the ones I go through this fiery hell with. I could only imagine what the pups are going through. I sat there, just beyond the border of Diveen. I thought about Isola's story, the threat in her words. I tried not to let it worm into my mind, tried to make certain I kept my hostility toward her at bay, at this point I would think about anything to get my mind off the pain. The journey home will be harder than I thought. I look to the bay, loving the hope that spreads warmth through my heart and soul. Already I am taken with the land I won by blood. The odd, not-quite-a-star shaped scar was my only serious wound, and I smiled as I thought of the children born of my Victory celebration. The first to be born in Asteraia under my rule, and the first to Reaver under his.

I move at a trot as soon as I can, though the motion only makes them more severe and more frequent. I am nearly within my borders as night begins to fall, the first water breaking happening just as my paws hit the invisible barrier of my home land and more contractions force me to stop. I curl up in the long grasses, though they are packed with snow. My white paws dig out the snow, pain throwing me into a rage as I cannot stop the feeling in my gut, though I lay once more. My muscles hot, breaths coming in uneasy panting sighs. I wait here, sitting in the dirt as I await the first wave of darkness. I keep my eyes open, knowing the one the mothers all whispered about last season could be lurking in the shadows. I do this for a reason, having my young soon in the season, producing them early. I have things to do, even in winter, I cannot spend all of my time thinking about if I should be making pups or not, I would rather just get the decision made and out of the way. If not, then I will simply have to distract myself.

I pant and shake in the dugout I intend to bring my first victory born son to life within. I sit, laying when my body tells me it is time to push, though never do I let my guard down. Ears moving and myself unafraid to sacrifice a child in sake of my own life and the life of two yet to be born, I make ready to bring another child into this world. I whimper in the dirt, though I am glad for the cover of dark. The hole, I realize, will attract attention, and so up I am, refraining from pushing as I move toward the den I picked out once again. If I was one down, the load would be easier to get across the path into the hanging alcove I had picked. Reaver would not be able to get near, but the more nimble of my pack can. Not that I worry about the more petite of them, they are nurturers or too busy with their own litters. I do not get far before the urge to push becomes too much, and there in the snow, blood and yellowish amniotic fluid paint my lands in their colors. Fitting that I should feed Asteraia the birthing blood of my first litter within her confines, though nature demands I make haste toward my den.

I wish I had premonitory powers, I would have gotten here much sooner, actually I would have waited to make the trip. Alas, I am evicting my litter here on the plains I rule, in the grass that seems to bow for this moment as the wind sweeps across my fur. This one is large, stretching me to the point that I think I will burst, and then a sudden release as the first victory born is whelped into the world. I turn and clean the viscera from the little white and pale russet pup, making it shriek as I roll it on its back to discover I have birthed a son to Reaver. He yells, paws pushing against my red-stained lips as I clip the tie that holds me to him. Once I am assured he is alright, breathing and healthy, I speak to him. "Shaddix, first son of Reaver, of Dread and Night, named after the shadow of your mother. Prepare yourself, son, we have only a bit more to get to.""Shaddix, first son of Reaver, of Dread and Night, named after the shadow of your mother. Prepare yourself, son, we have only a bit more to get to." I pick him up, causing him to yelp and snap his gums at me, already a vicious creature. Despite the burning it caused in my lions, and the ache of contractions beginning once more, I make it to the safety of my den.

The night wears on, as does my labor, my tired form sleeping between the agonizing pressure in my hips and abdomen. My first son is nestled between my hind legs, where my teats are fuller and richer for him. His cute dusted face already making me affectionate and attached to him. I hope he has no deformities or weakness within him, he comes from a line of kings on my behalf. Perhaps, his father had the same, though this would never be known to me. Either way, I am awakened by my alarm of painful contractions, signaling it is time for another pup. This time was not so difficult as the last, though it did take some time. This one was a reddish brown color, dark and rich mahogany when wet with its fluids. Though the silver and black on the coat did darken and lighten it in the best of ways. Beautiful was he and imagine my shock when I find a second son of victory evicted from my womb. "Balor, second son of Reaver, of Dread and Night. Born victorious are you, and made for great things I can see.""Balor, second son of Reaver, of Dread and Night. Born victorious are you, and made for great things I can see."

Exhaustion kicks in, and I can barely hold my head up to clean my second pup off, but I manage. He settles next to his brother not long after, and I lay there relaxing as he latches on to me. Such strong pups, I am lucky to have such strong children. This is why they weaken me when I make them, why I endure this much for them. They take the strength they need from me, and I could not ever ask to give them more. I will do this over and over, giving myself to my children, seeing their father in their faces. Even monsters are capable of love. A couple of hours later, I am awoken from a sleep I had not been aware of, making me push once more to create a third life. The last took me a few hours to get out, so tired I was that I could barely push her out. When I finally did, I was shocked to find that midnight coat I had seen on only one wolf, and something clicked into place for me. With Isola's story still sharp in the back of my mind, I turn the raven colored girl over, noticing the bit of grey on her underbelly and smirking a little. Inadvertently, I had created a copy of the Terror of Moladion. I knew it from the look of her, and remembering the look of him. Isola had said they could not find a wolf named Alyx, a wolf of Tobias' own blood, and the old Jaidah she spoke of. What if Reaver was this Alyx? What if this explained why Tobias called me Mother? Now her story became a threat, now the wheels in my paranoid and tired mind are turning and I am more inclined to keep the deception of peace. I stare down with tired and bloodshot jade eyes at my dark little girl, finding more pride than I thought possible within my heart.

Though I could not truly know it, I had plans to marry into the darkest bloodline in Moladion, and I have created monsters the likes of which the world has never seen. Looking down on my daughter, I smirk, cleaning her off in a dazed manner as I think of a name for her. "Raum, my little girl is called, may your heart be as dark as your pelt. Do your blood proud little one, Momma has big plans for all of you.""Raum, my little girl is called, may your heart be as dark as your pelt. Do your blood proud little one, Momma has big plans for all of you." I smile, and as she moves to nurse with her brothers, I am inclined to relax in the afterglow of birth. The pain recedes, though I feel muscles contracting as the pups nurse, though this only brings a warm smile to my face. I shift more to my side, knowing full well I may not wake for at least a day. I felt so heavy, and when I was sure I would not have any other pups, I fell straight to sleep.

I keep my back to the entrance, limp and heavy, my pups hidden in the darkness of the dirt and shadow of my sea side den. A sheer drop to the ocean on one side, and a thin and narrow path that lead to the topside of the pack. I felt secure, and so I was free to sleep.