ooc: narcissa is a member of WB at this time, joining thread still in progress. tagging her family members, but all WB members are welcome in this thread. She has been uncharacteristically reclusive lately, spending much of her time in her den or deep within the peaks of the Bluffs. Narcissa is leery to enter a new chapter -- one without Wolfgang or Azriael or Ania by her side, but fate has more planned for the spotted woman, and she does not have the option to deny it. Her hurt and lonesomeness is somewhat spared by those who do remain, and being closer to them helps her to heal the fractured parts of herself. If nothing else, Narcissa is a survivor, built to endure. And so she does. Dawn has barely broken when she first feels it: a familiar rush of pain, staggering and enough to bring her to her knees. A low groan rumbles from her jaws and she waits for it to pass before continuing down the icy path towards her den. Any hopes for a morning snack are dashed, and the swollen lioness makes a hasty retreat to the nest of warm furs she's been gathering the last few weeks. Her struggle is one that she suffers in silence; Narcissa is used to being surrounded by familiar faces and warm bodies, but something tells her that this is something she has to do on her own. She does not call out for anyone, ducking into her den without a sound and aggressively shifting and rearranging the pelts inside until she's somewhat satisfied with the result. The hours past daybreak find the pride quiet and resting, allowing Narcissa the peace she craves to labor over bringing new life into the world. As far as birthing goes, it's an uneventful process, and just as seamless as her first experience had been. When all is said and done, there are three healthy cubs at her breast and a tired smile quirked across her lips. They are mostly earthy tones, with a spattering of her muddy spots adorning their skin; the girl is a similar shade of mauve as Faevyre, which she finds somewhat strange and mildly amusing. Her muzzle brushes gently across their warm and gently squirming bodies, inhaling the sweet scent that young cubs always seem to wear. And then she finally chuffs softly into the morning air, alerting @Baphomè, @Faevyre, and her older children to come and meet the newest, mewling members of their family. @Echo @Andromache @Ursula @Artos

image by mono, code by koi

He had not been far—no, since sharing in the news of what was to come, what was expected—he remained near. It was strange for him, to be bound by this apprehensive feeling. This worry. This romanticized notion of promise and devotion. Always, like the moon yearning for the sea, pulling her endless face up to the stars time and time again, Baphome was drawn to her. The ends of the world came up and met them, splitting the earth and their paths. This time, however, their chapter was given greater time, and greater blessings. Hearing her summons, he understood what it had meant, and what it would mean for their days and years to come.

He stood from his perch, eyes trained towards her denning site. A thread of old impulse ignited, stifled then by the unspoken knowledge this time was different. He was certain there were others out in the world begotten by his passions, knew that he was the architect for another’s family. Even here in Amaryllis, there was that understanding there may be others being brought into the world in other dens that carried his bloodline. Transactional, and made not for him but the mothers who asked of him such burdens. But this—this was quite different. It was passion-made, the burnishing of [redacted].

And from that, from that came something dangerously close to happiness. Something that uttered joy, and elation, and relief. Relief.

As he began to trek towards @Narcissa, he thought then of his sister. It would good news she would be in need of. He wondered, if only briefly, how she would receive it. Grinning fool that he was, imagined naught but good things from her, and from what Narcissa had given him. And his step hastened as the doorway to her birthing room came in view. He waited not for an invitation, nor a glance to see who would follow his arrival. No. his mind and eyes and attention fixed themselves on the freckled face of the woman whom held his blackened heart, spilled only peripherally for what she brought into this world. He moved swiftly, with care, sweeping to her sit at her back.

His presence loomed across her spent figure, eyes glistening by ways we won’t speak of. Pride stitched and hemmed in the machinations of his heart, as he looked over the three wriggling figures. His cheeks rose and warmed at the sight, and he lowered himself so to cradle Narcissa. And as he did, came the small, faint, and yet wholly affecting declaration, Mon couer, they are perfection.

His head slipped beneath hers to as though a cushion to be placed on her lap, his eyes then level with their small blessings.

Like their mother. He then added. There came a brief pause, allowing for him to move and place a doting kiss placed at her cheek. He held his lips there, tangled in the rise of complicated emotions. He never quite understood the austerity of his mother’s standards. Did not quite comprehend the need for family, or being bound. But this, and her, she felt far from chains or anchor. For him, Narcissa, these children, and the warmth of her den quite perilously felt like home. His heart seemed to stutter, and his senses jolted. It went against everything he’d been in want of in the world, it challenged the unrooted sense of his reality and wanderlust. But this moment, billowed against his wretched soul. Closing his eyes, he leaned into her, and in spite of all his many sins and all that she had weathered, it felt cruel. It felt cruel, but it was in the glow of all this happiness, the Great Sinner Baphome felt it to be nothing but the honest truth. Hushed, yet firm, yet tender, he could not help but speak it, and give all these many good things a new name, Je t'aime, Narcissa.

I love you as the stars love the night. Indulgently, but love never the less.

He knew others would arrive—such joyous occasions seemed to be hallmark for it. And so, he enjoyed his time, appraising what they’d done, basking in their private moment before the footfalls of others announced more arrivals. His head spinning, dizzied delirious; but when they echoed beyond their doors, he retreated. Then, he sat, posture appropriate for entertaining guests upon this merry day—his heart swollen, and drunk on the many things Narcissa brought into his life.

It was hard to miss the signs of birth floating through the lands. Before being a leader, she wouldn't have cared if it hadn't been Ambro or Mona's cubs but now she needed to at least check in. She also knew that the cubs being born were a tie between two families. She didn't know the depth of the relationship but she knew that normally, this would be the end of things and she wouldn't need to worry but Amara was well aware that @Narcissa was mated with another who seemed to have multiple wives as well. This didn't sit well with Amara but that was prior to her and the cubs, at least the females, seemed to be a good addition to the lands. The males, not so much. Amara arrives after the cubs were born and after @Baphomè. She poked her head in, and gave each cub a quick look, they all seemed alive that was good, before looking to the parents. Her golden gaze landed on Baphomè for a moment longer, she didn't know much about him and wasn't to keen on trusting him yet. That would need to be fixed and soon. She looked back to the new mother with a softer than normal gaze. Do you need anything? She offered her help in whatever may be needed, not that she really knew what to do to help but it was offered now.

Artist | Coding by Analese

After seeing to it that her family received a thorough tour of the Bluffs upon their arrival, Ursula gave them ample space to settle in. Knowing how difficult it could be to leave one home for another, it seemed unfair to require a tolerance of her presence around them, to smother them with her company as she so wanted. The desire within to hound her mother for a hunt, a favorite shared as far as bonding time, is particularly difficult to stifle, made easier only by the distinct scent of pregnancy. @Narcissa was carrying, and @Baphomè's presence is a tell-tale indication that the litter is of their union.

Most Some children might experience ill feelings if they knew that their mother conceived with a male that is not their biological father. Ursula finds joy in this fact instead, her understanding of family and love unusual, perhaps, but she'll never know any different considering no one would be able to explain it to her. In her opinion, so long as an individual treats her parents well, they could give her more siblings whenever they wanted to. Family is a loose concept for her, including folks that did not share her blood, so half-siblings are just as accepted in her fold as those of her own litter.

Knowing the day is approaching, the lioness has made it her personal mission to ensure that the cache is refilled quite often. Though she doesn't know much about birth, she figures it takes a lot of energy, and that her mother will need easy meals for the first few days until the cubs can be left unattended. When finally the smell of birth permeates the air, there dangles two snowshoe hares from her maw, her path toward the cache altering toward her mother's chosen den. @Amara's ass comes into view at the opening, and Ursula purposefully smacks her pads against the snow-dusted ground in an effort not to startle the older woman.

Not bothering to pause at the mouth of the den, knowing nothing of protective instincts, the lioness seeks her mother's eye as she enters. Always the deaf one will gauge her family's wellbeing first, and only after determining the once-again mother's vitality does she glance to the newest additions of their family. The scent of birth is strong, acrid, and it, along with the sight of her newborn siblings, makes her muzzle curl a bit with distaste. Did she look so wrinkly when she was born? Awe overcomes her expression though, and she swiftly glances to the face of their father before peering back down at them. Settling down on her belly near Narcissa's fore, the lilac-eyed woman deposits the rabbits near her mother before reaching out her nose to snuffle curiously at the cubs.

code by corvus

Experience had made Echo confident in her ability to attend to such matters. This was now her fourth birth, and her mother had made her work easy for her. Honestly, it was a blessing, as happy as she would have been to ensure @Narcissa's safety, there would have been an edge of awkwardness to the whole situation that was neatly avoided with the uneventful affair. By the time she arrives from her herb cache, the den is already crowded with other bodies. Echo slips in behind the others, creeping along the edge of the den behind @Amara as she scoots behind to shuffle her way beside @Ursula, smiling that her sister instinctively seemed to know how to check on their health.

The cache of herbs she had brought would largely not be needed since Narcissa had already done the hard part, but she shuffles through it and lays a bundling of herbs she had brought to relieve pain with the rabbit. They were dried from earlier in the year; as fresh herbs do not grow well in the snow. "For pain." She clarifies, eyes meeting Narcissa's then moving back to the babies.

The larger body of @Baphomè tucked beside her mother was not unnoticed, but she finds herself avoiding his gaze as a well of complicated feelings swell in her heart. He is safe, and he is familiar - followed them all the way from their homeland while the others in her life had left just as far. Mom deserves to be happy, right?

But he's not Dad...or Dad... and even though she's never been asked or pressured to view him as such she cannot help but have alarm bells ring in her mind that he is going to be replacing them now. So her eyes stay off him and remain on the babies, as looking at them brought hope into the swirling mixture in her muddied heart. It was nothing personal to the man, it was just easier for Echo this way.

Why couldn't either of her Dads stay to see this - to be here for Mom? At least one of them could have stayed behind to make sure they were safe - to guard them against the violent shitstorm that had dogged the Bezra children since their arrival. It was unfair that these children should have a father who would travel so far to create them while hers were gone without a trace. As noble a reason they had for leaving, this moment punctuated their absence more than usual, and left Echo quiet as she reconciles her abandonment with her guilt for feeling the way she did.

One thing that was clear in the crowded mess of her heart, her new kin would not suffer in the same way she had. Echo would make sure of it, die for it - for them - if she must. Even if she could not guard them against all the cruelties of this world, they would not be swallowed by it as the rest of the Bezra had - like she had.

faevyre.Oh, Faevyre is MAD MAD.

She's not really mad, but she's frustrated. She's on the way back from gathering a few more birthing herbs from outside of the territory expressly for this purpose when she smells the scent of blood and birth on the cold. It stops her in her tracks, panic sweeping through her, and she thunders toward the den. She'd stayed close enough to hear the call echoing off the mountains -- where had it been? What had happened?

There's no way Narcissa didn't call her, right? Frustration borne of panic and worry broils in the base of her chest as she scrambles. The deep chuff echoes out after she's started heading back, assuaging at least some of her worry. By the time she gets there, others have arrived, and she's glad to see Echo -- who has become quite the reliable medic, much to Faevyre's pride -- here. Everything seems calm in the den as she approaches and draws near.

If she was still frustrated or panicked, it all melts away when she sees the small babes tucked at Narcissa's chest. Tiny, little things curled neatly at the woman's side, still damp from their thorough cleaning. Her breast swells with hope and love and wonder. She lowers herself to the earth and wiggles her way close, holding her breath as she does so, eyes fixed on them for a long moment before they sweep to Narcissa.

All of the memories of Orusa come flooding back. She remembers playing hide-and-go-seek with the little ones in the cavern, of rescuing a particularly troublesome pair from the territory of another, of chasing them all through the snow.

"They're beautiful," she whispers, her voice breaking. She hadn't been there for the birth of the other children, but she'd always imagined that if there was another one such as this, that the rest would be here to share it with them. She's tried to be stoic, to stay strong, but it sets in now. Tears well at her eyes as she seeks to bury her face into the woman's chest. She lets them well, but doesn't sob -- she doesn't want to draw the attention to her emotions, just wants to quietly comfort and embrace the woman she's come to adore.

It'll be okay. Faevyre will make sure they're all okay.