Winter had been a very long season indeed, seeming to stretch longer still as her sides and stomach continued to expand in to what seemed highly improbable lengths. More and more frequently she grew agitated by either the hormones raging throughout her system or the incessant movement and kicks that made rest neigh impossible in most cases. Additionally the fact that she could no longer do her work as the True Arrow of Taviora, a position she had very recently secured for herself, increased her displeasure tenfold. There were mouths to feed all throughout Taviora and she was failing them. Spring finally broke through and she watched the forest bloom around them, easily the prettiest time of year here amongst the trees and she had little appreciation for it. Jealousy? Yes. Appreciation? No. Everything around her seemed to give birth to new life while she sat there wider than some tree trunks.

For a moment she looked forlornly at her bulging sides, now highly doubting Zaphkiel’s prediction of only two pups as her eyes flicked to the comforting form of her mate who never seemed to be far from her these days. “Maybe they are never coming out,” she sighed with a touch of aggravation in her voice, “maybe they’re happy in there, and besides we can better protect them if they’re all in one place…” She trailed off cringing as one of the pups kicked out at her sides, a feeling she would never quite get used to.

What seemed like years passed, though it was only a matter of days and Astrid didn’t know how much longer she could take this. One morning she awoke, the sun streaming in through the mouth of her under-tree home and alighting on her black-patched face where it lay strewn over Zaphkiel’s back. There sleeping arrangements were strained as of late with her awkward and considerable size and the general limitations of the den, but she was glad they hadn’t moved locations. This was her home. Still the sun in her eyes seemed to trigger a certain something inside of her. She stood abruptly (which is her state took quiet of bit of finagling and paws scrabbling), large nose nudging under Zaphkiel to get him moving even going so far as to nip at him until he’s up and out of the den all without explanation. Once she had extricated him she set to work silently save for her huffing and puffing, digging about the floor until she had turned over new dirt before rearranging the feathers and rabbit pelts mainly in a corner of the den they had expanded not long ago.

She panted from her work, unsure as to what exactly drove her to such lengths but it felt right. As she stood there, sides heaving with dust particles dancing in the sunlight the first contractions hit. She stumbled, the pain so sudden and shocking it almost knocked her off her feet. Her ears laced back and a growl rumbled deep in her throat as if she could fend off the pain even as another racked her body and her growl turned to a whine. With that she fell into a pattern alternating between pacing around the den floor, dropping occasionally to roll from side to side, and simply standing there gritting her teeth against the now almost constant contractions all accompanied with a chorus of whines and growls.

Time lost meaning to her as she cycled around and around, flopping to the ground once more as the pain caused light to flash behind her eyes while she strained and pushed. Finally with a piercing howl and a decisive push she felt the rush of at least some relief as her first pup slid into the world. Her panting had accelerated and she longed to simply close her eyes but instinct pushed her to movement. She sat up, quickly tearing the sac around her child gently with her teeth before beginning to clean her. Her! Their first child was a daughter and as her pink tongue lapped and cleaned the birth from her a huge smile broke across her face. Gently she picked her up, positioning her between her legs and easily in reach of a teat as the sun illuminated her. She was dark, like her father, her coat mostly black save for her underside and face where it changed to brilliant white. The perfect combination of her parents. Her two-toned gaze drifted to the entrance of the den, smiling at her mate though not inviting him in he could see their firstborn well enough from there. “A daughter,” she said to him breathily before looking back down at her, she licked her small head while breathing her name upon her, “Asariel.”

Though the contractions were still consistent it was some time before they escalated once more and silently Astrid prayed Zaphkiel’s prediction of only two pups might be correct for she wasn’t sure how many more times she could go through this. She pushed and strained a long while, growling at the air while her large paws scrabbled sideways in the dirt always mindful of Asariel lying quietly on the pelts before her. With a second discordant howl she announced the birth of their second child as the relief washed momentarily over her once more. She cleaned him quickly, discovering that their second born was a son before placing him beside his sister. He was brilliantly marked, mostly a bright white like herself save for a mask of black that covered most of his upper face though it stopped at his ears. Within the mask were two brow marks and a smudge and flecks of white like the stars on Zaphkiel’s own face. Halfway down his tail turned to an interesting russet red and while Astrid knew nothing of Angels she would surely believe he was one. “A son this time,” she rasps, the birthing truly beginning to take its toll on her now, “Vortigern is a strong name for him.”

She sits there a while, panting heavily with her tongue lolling out over her teeth while her eyes are closed reaching for whatever rest she could find even as she could feel the contractions continuing. After a time they peak again, rekindling the growls within her chest as her eyes of molten gold and ice flick to her mate, “It appears you were wrong,” she grumbles before falling back and into an almost unconscious state of pushing and straining once more. For some reason this pup seems to come more easily into the world than his siblings and after she howls announcing him as well she sits upright to clean the birth she can see why almost instantly. A second son he is much smaller already than either of his siblings, a trait that would follow him the rest of his life, but as he cries and strains against her tongue she smiles for he is alive and healthy which is all she can ask for. “Another son, Tzadkiel I think suits him. Are you satisfied with three, my love? For I think I could be…” Her voice trails off as she lays back, head heavy on the pelts and bird feathers with the comforting feeling of her children suckling hungrily. All could be well in the world if three was all she would have…

Yet after a time she can groggily feel her body preparing as it has three times before, contracting, pushing, straining and her eyes roll in both aggravation and exhaustion. She steels herself, she could do this, and surely just once more she can manage this. A cacophony of rumbling growls and high pitched whines with the underlying squeaks of pups upset at their mother’s movement fills the den. Every fiber of her being narrows down to the singular act of birthing this last pup and for a moment she sees stars before the greatest relief yet floods her body and her voice sings out the arrival of their final child. She almost cannot raise her head, and if the need was not so dire to quickly break the sac and clean the birth she might not have. Yet she must and with much effort she rises one final time, lapping eagerly at what she finds to be a second daughter almost entirely as dark as her father save for a tracing of white on her undersides and a smatter of white hair across her forehead and down her spine. “Startouched daughter,” she breaths the words heavily as she settles her down beside her siblings, “Astraea.”

It is all she can manage before she cannot hold her head up any longer, settling it down beside the pile of squirming bodies as to keep an eye on them as they nurse. Blearily her eyes flick to where Zaphkiel still stands at the den’s entrance, the sun high overhead now and she is amazed at how much time has passed. “Come… see…” It’s the only invitation she can manage for him.