It began in the middle of the night when the moon hung large across the sky with pale light casting moon-shadows across the earth. At first she slumbers in a fitful state and is soon brought to awareness by the gripping of her sides, clenching and rolling then relaxing. Over and over it begins, much in the same way that happens when one is about to throw up except this is lower. Deeper within her and more primal than any method of regurgitation. This is the deliverance of new life unto an earth already brimming with it. She lifts her head with keen eyes, knowing immediately what is forthcoming and ears snapping down. Natu, who is kind and stern and loving, turns to her mate and nips him hard on the shoulder. She will not need to tell him to leave for Fenrir knows what is to happen, knows what she requires and what she desires, and he will leave so that she has space. Air to breath and space to stretch to deliver his children.

Unlike her last labor, which had seemed intense and long and had taken much from her body, this one seems to go by relatively quick. She is surprised, in fact, when the first child begins to push between her legs with a swiftness that is astounding for her body has been tense as it readies itself against pain. It does not take but a few short pushes to deliver her second daughter into the world, leaning up quickly and back to lick at the debris that clings to little Samia's head. A squeal meets her ears and she eases with a smile on her face, delicately taking her between her teeth and pulling towards her belly where she suckle and Natu can clean better.

Her brother waits for a few minutes before he decides it is now his turn to arrive, her body seeming to suck inward upon itself as she digs fore claws into the earth and bares her teeth in one might push, more pressure than anything, and he comes racing into the world. She sighs out a breath of relief and grins down at him, another son to add to her family, and notes the black and red and the gray speckling across his maw and his paws. He will be handsome, her son, and she cannot help but think of him as a little god, powerful in his own right. She cleans him and pulls him next to his sister so that their little bodies will rub together as they suckle, her own nose not straying but a few inches from them in wonder. "Samia, my darling, and Thor, my warrior." She murmurs, knowing that Fenrir would appear soon enough to see his children.