the descent to hell is easy

navarro x stella , twelve , three progeny

Something was not right about this pregnancy and she felt the icy fingers of fear creep up her spine at the thought of it. She could not endure another troubled labor and another failed birthing -- not emotionally.

It had been a short time since Aster’s own litter was given to Asteraia and she knew that it was her turn to bring forth offspring. But days had come and passed without any telltale sign of it happening. Worry plagued her mind day and night as she sought after her younger friend for support. Of course, she was not crawling on her belly or bawling her eyes out when confiding in Aster about her secret fears. It had been long enough that she had thought she would die this way, poisoned by the miscarriage of her unborn children.

She was on her way to seek Aster’s council again, wondering if there was a way to force them out, when the first contraction of muscles in her abdomen bring her to a stop. They are subtle and only a warning of imminent pain to come. She knows that it is due time for her pups to be born but she fears what being this late may mean for them all. She is far from her den site and en route to her queen, stuck somewhere in between the two, and there are little options left for her. While she can harbor appreciation for Aster’s open birthing among the tall, spring grasses, Eclipse is nothing of the sort to be so vulnerable. She is intent on getting to Aster’s den as her silver brindled figure picks up in a hasty jog to continue onward.

She doesn’t get too far before a side-splitting contraction hits her like a wall. She spins around, feeling as if her insides were being ripped open, and finds that there is nothing to be seen. Her large body crumples to the soft, green grass as she attempts to assuage the pain with different positions. No matter which way she lays there is no relieving herself of the spasms in her abdomen. Desperate, she sends a broken howl into the air for her newly entrusted comrade before slowly standing again. The pain finally begins to subside into a dull ache and she takes the opportunity to move further toward her destination; she was determined now more than ever to not go through this alone.

The familiar hillside of the queen’s was in sight just in the distance as patches of red and blue flowers began to bloom among the grasses. She was so close, she had nearly made it. But the dull aching grew once more into a terrible, piercing spasm and she could not keep her legs working under her. She collapsed for a second time near an old, long-forgotten burrow but could not find the strength again to make her way to it. Her sides were being torn apart internally as her muscles contracted and her uterus expelled the first pup from its cavity. His position was all wrong and he wreaked havoc on her body, bringing streams of blood and pain with him as he fell from her body and to the plush, spring earth. It took a moment for her to catch her breath after he had made his way out and within a few moments she turned to free him of his sac and gave him his first breath of life.

His pale body was swathed in blood as it streamed from her vulva, the consequence of his destruction, and she loathed him for it. He cried for her touch, to be guided to her sweet milk, but she did not help him. Instead she lay panting in a lateral position, each heave of her chest reminding her of the torture her body is experiencing because of this boy. She rolls to her belly slowly and with much struggle, nearly crushing the small one that whimpers for aid, and stands on weakened legs so that she may pick the child up in her mouth and stumble over to the abandoned den.

The scents that once drenched this place were now stale and even if it were inhabited she would not care. Drunkenly, she lumbers down into the hole, scraping her back on the entrance and covering herself in dark, moist dirt. She carelessly drops to the cool earth once she has gotten all the way in and she releases the pup from her jaws as she allows the darkness to consume her. The cold dampness of the burrow eases her aching in the least bit before another contraction causes her body to writhe. She crawls in a circle, stretching out her legs once she has settled again, and finds the most comfortable way to bring in her next babe. As if ‘comfortable’ even meant anything remotely close to what it once did.

The second is the largest and yet his brother has already done the most damage, thus making his passage less eventful but none less painful. He stretches the already torn flesh and reopens once-closed vessels so that they now shower him in cruor as well. A vicious snarl boils within her throat as she lurches to rip the sac from him and cleanse him of its filth. She nudges him roughly in the direction of her belly as her neck releases back against the ground. The length of time that has passed is unknown in this darkness but she can begin to hear the nightbugs chirping outside the mouth of the den - their songs faded and echoing in her weary mind.

She is awakened by the next contraction, her body curling up again as she looks at her bloodied rear in hopes that this is her last child. If it’s not then she hopes to die before she must endure any more of it. The aching passes for a short time before coming back full force and causing her to jerk upward as she raises to her front paws alone. Her jaws hang agape in shallow pants as she drags herself from her stationary position. The pain intensifies before finally giving way to a sweet release as her third and final pup is birthed. Exhausted, she is barely able to turn around and consume the sac that encases her only daughter. The dark top-coat of the girl is lost in the shadows of the den but her silvered legs peek out of the darkness. With one final effort to encourage life within the girl she licks softly at her inky back before collapsing in a drained, bloodied heap. She had done it, but at what cost?