Post by Messoria on May 11, 2015 18:06:26 GMT -5
Perfect. They are absolutely perfect. The thought repeated itself again and again in Messoria’s mind as she lay curled in the back of her chosen den, one side pressed against the cool rock of the slick walls, the other serving as warmth to the five healthy pups who nuzzled against her. For the last week since their birth Messoria had been wholly captivated by them, hardly ever daring to leave their side. The tiny stream that ran throughout the caverns was close enough for her to sate her thirst while keeping them in sight, and she did not have to venture for food, as it was provided to her by the huntresses, who had become akin to angels in her eyes. While her exhaustion had finally ebbed way, leaving only hunger in its wake, she was still recovering from the ordeal. Her body had been badly torn by the massive pups, and for perhaps the hundredth time Messoria was reminded of Datura, whom it was highly likely that she owed her life to. She could still remember the dizziness in her brain as the blood continued to flow down her haunches, and the way that the Matriarch had taken charge of the situation and stopped the coppery flood. It had earned Datura a larger measure of respect in Messoria’s eyes, and while they would never quite be friends with Goliath in the picture, Messoria was beginning to find her presence almost tolerable.
A sharp squeal drew her sharp amber gaze towards the pups, a wry smile of amusement springing to her muzzle as she observed the two pups to the far left. They were the darkest of the bunch – Hyperion and Morrigan, respectively – and their constant struggle for room despite their sealed eyes was never-ending. Their high-pitched yelps of indignation continued until Messoria dipped her head, pressing her muzzle between them and separating them a smidgen. It wouldn't be long until they wiggled together again, their sightless battle continuing, but for now there was blessed silence. Her gaze flicked to the others, all at once admiring and proud; Nimue lay firmly in the middle, so similar to her father even at her young age that it was startling. Will she have his eyes, or mine? Messoria wondered, her gaze wandering absently to Fawn, the smallest of them all and certainly the lightest. She was impressed with the wide array of colors that her pups sported, from the dark dappled pelt of Morrigan to the light, creamy color of Fawn. Her gaze traveled to Croix then, first born male and second largest boy, although two of his sisters were larger than him still. The browns and whites of his pelt were no less pleasing to the eye than his siblings were, each of them so lovely and perfectly formed that it took Messoria’s breath away. Soon they would be older, their eyes open and their minds impressionable. She would not be able to dote over them so blatantly then, but for now she would allow herself to let her triumph course like hot blood through her veins.
She curled around them, the tip of her tail brushing her nose as she circled them completely. The ordeal had been so agonizing, so dangerous, and yet she did not regret a moment of it. Each and every one of them had the mingled blood of her and her mate, Goliath, running through her veins. They would grow to be fine, fierce pups, even the females it seemed. With a soft sigh of satisfaction, Messoria allowed her eyes to drift close – not sleeping, but instead allowing the trick of water and the sound of their breathing to placate her.
A sharp squeal drew her sharp amber gaze towards the pups, a wry smile of amusement springing to her muzzle as she observed the two pups to the far left. They were the darkest of the bunch – Hyperion and Morrigan, respectively – and their constant struggle for room despite their sealed eyes was never-ending. Their high-pitched yelps of indignation continued until Messoria dipped her head, pressing her muzzle between them and separating them a smidgen. It wouldn't be long until they wiggled together again, their sightless battle continuing, but for now there was blessed silence. Her gaze flicked to the others, all at once admiring and proud; Nimue lay firmly in the middle, so similar to her father even at her young age that it was startling. Will she have his eyes, or mine? Messoria wondered, her gaze wandering absently to Fawn, the smallest of them all and certainly the lightest. She was impressed with the wide array of colors that her pups sported, from the dark dappled pelt of Morrigan to the light, creamy color of Fawn. Her gaze traveled to Croix then, first born male and second largest boy, although two of his sisters were larger than him still. The browns and whites of his pelt were no less pleasing to the eye than his siblings were, each of them so lovely and perfectly formed that it took Messoria’s breath away. Soon they would be older, their eyes open and their minds impressionable. She would not be able to dote over them so blatantly then, but for now she would allow herself to let her triumph course like hot blood through her veins.
She curled around them, the tip of her tail brushing her nose as she circled them completely. The ordeal had been so agonizing, so dangerous, and yet she did not regret a moment of it. Each and every one of them had the mingled blood of her and her mate, Goliath, running through her veins. They would grow to be fine, fierce pups, even the females it seemed. With a soft sigh of satisfaction, Messoria allowed her eyes to drift close – not sleeping, but instead allowing the trick of water and the sound of their breathing to placate her.