The call she loosed for him cut off abruptly as the next wave of contractions hit and the nicker died to a grunt as she rolled sideways and strained as instinct demanded. As it passed, she lay prone for a moment, her sides heaving with desperate panting as she attempted to find some sense of self in the process. Kohelet had never in her life felt like she had less control than at this particular moment, and the knowledge that she could neither save nor protect herself at this point was terrifying.

She rose frantically once the contraction had passed, muddying her knees and butchering a few of the ferns in her haste. The wolves had remained quiet from their last howl and she knew firsthand that they were drawn to the scent of blood and birth more than anything else. She wasn't sure how long she could stay standing, but she wanted to avoid looking helpless for as long as she possibly could.

No more had she shakily regained her feet and turned to survey the deep shadows that surrounded her than the next contraction sent her back to her knees and then further down as their child began to make their appearance.

He appeared ike the personification of her mental state, furious and seething with rage, bloodied from battle and still unafraid to continue on until the job was done. It might have scared her, if she hadn't felt like she was in the midst of a war against her own body. As it was, the contract narrowed her field of view until he became a featureless blur of red and black somewhere beside her. When it passed, Kohelet reached for him with an inaudible nicker faintly fluttering the rim of her nostrils. She had no words, not those she might have used to ask after his wounds, nor those she might have used to convey her own worry. She thought she managed to brush her muzzle across him somewhere - be it his own sweet face or a feathered ankle - before the next wave hit.

This one was different, although the tobiano woman shied violently away from describing the sensation, and she felt their child slide wetly into the world. Exhausted, she could do nothing but lay panting, her head barely lifted from the ground as she tried to peer beyond the tangle of her own legs to what lay behind. She could feel the child moving, their body fighting against something, be it the sack, or themselves, or her, which gave her hope that they were well. She thought she might tell Fell to tear them free of the birth sack if they had not already managed it themselves, but she had no energy left for speaking.

Kohelet barely noticed the final contraction that finally severed the connection between mother and child, too consumed with dragging lungfuls of air into a chest cavity that had regained the space it had been missing for months on end. She didn't know why this small thing - breathing - felt so wonderful but it did, and the joy of it combined with the heady sense of success gave her the strength to roll herself upright again, so that she could crane her neck around to peer back at the child she had worked so hard to create.

Still wordless, she stretched to meet their muzzle and nickered softly at them, welcoming them to this world.

OOC - I know I didn't leave much to reply to but I wanted to try and maybe take it a bit slower so instead of like fast-forwading through all the small moments (like rushing to having him standing, nursing etc), just taking a little more time. That said, shorter replies are fine - like I said, I know I didn't give Fell much to go off of <3