Merida
Wondering where you've been all my life, I just started living
A sharp gasp leaves her obsidian-lined lips. She is jolted awake by the twisting and unmerciful pain of contractions, rippling through the lithe and nimble frame of the vulpine. For a moment even Crevan is forgotten as he sleeps beside her - his warmth and steady breathing are ignored as her lips ripple over clenched canines, waiting for the contortion of her abdomen to subside. She knew that it would - it feels like decades ago when she had first given birth and though time has passed in between, there is suddenly the fierce reminder of what she is about to endure for the sake of child.
It ends, and if Crevan had not already been stirred awake by whimperings and growlings that simpered in her throat only moments before, a solid nip to his muscled shoulder will do the trick. She’s already standing on slender black paws, feeling restless and uncomfortable in the dampness of their burrow. Merida paces towards the entrance where the silver light of a low-hanging full moon spills onto the orange blaze of her fur, the cold night air relieving the tension that is easily seen across her entire body.
She had begun to nest weeks before, digging deeper into the damp earth at the back of their home so that she would be prepared when the moment arrived. Pacing briskly from the entrance and then deeper into the darkness, she begins to pant heavily as her body tightens once more with labor pains. With her ears flat against her head in exertion and focus, the little fox finds her prepared area with twitching nostrils, whuffling the scent of deep and warm earth.
It is just before dawn - when the night is truly the darkest - when Merida finally feels a loosening of pressure as the child slips from her. Immediately she lifts her head, her shoulder still pressed firmly into the ground to catch a glimpse of the fruits of her labor. Dark as midnight, a tiny cub encased in membrane and wetness cries for her in muffled yips. Drawn to the sound, she props herself up and curls towards the little thing, mesmerized by the strong scent that she somehow already seems to find familiar. She licks him clean with the roughness of her tongue, focusing on the soft slits of his dark eyes so that nothing will be in the way of his first view of both his mother and father. Soft dappling of violet bridge the snout of the fox cub and Merida lets out a snort of amusement and awe at the sight of it.
Merida is extremely prideful of the child she has birthed, her chest swelling in adoration at the revelation of a vulpine son. Her scarlet eyes flicker to Crevan, an amused sound thundering in her throat (one of contentment). “Name him, love,” she tells the wolf as she continues to tend to her son, her pointed snout snuffling deep into the darkness of his black fur.
@[Crevan] @[Shiye]