Demoniac Incarnations (Babylonia's Birthing!)

[.Rabid Lycan.]

((kk, sure ^^))

And there it was.
Struggling within its elastic cage, the pup moaned weakly from its position. Sanceul instantly reached for the pup, dragging it toward her and away from the blood. Though she was not at all practiced with newborns, she protectively concealed it with her tail and licked it furiously. “Male,” she noted, grooming the monotone spectrum of his fur that so closely resembled his mother’s.
After a couple frantic moments, the pup began to wail powerfully—not enough to compete with his mother’s, but enough to be sure that he was breathing just fine. Sanceul hesitated, knowing that Babylonia could not handle a pup attempting to suckle, and she herself was far too preoccupied to be nursing some pups. Instead, she gently nosed the pup toward Babylonia’s face.
“Give your mother strength, kid.”
She then continued to mend the ever-stressed wound.

[Sivoncé™]

For a breif moment, the pain seemed to cease. She was numb to all else in the world, except for the fact that there was a tiny pup squirming and squealing near her face. He was a bundle of precious, beloved life; instantly, she loved him to the very depths of her core. She nudged him gently closer with her nose and attempted to lick him, though the pain was beginning to break through the barricades of her newfound love.
"Sargon," she whispered.
And then a ripping, burning, shattering agony exploded throughout her entire body. She shuddered and for a moment, her vision threatened to blur into complete shadow. Fight back, fight back for Sargon! Fight back for the others yet to come...
With a high-pitched shriek, she pushed onwards.
The second pup followed quick behind her brother and tasted life with a sudden stream of yipping.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

“You’re doing good, now…”
Abandoning the whimpering Sargon to the company of his mother, Sanceul swerved her attention on the second pup. In a repetitive and much calmer manner, the ivory fae readied the new pup in much the same manner. Between the crucial licks, she uttered a quick “Fae,” before slowing her tongue. This new child, lungs active with movement, was decently clean; Sanceul, in contrast, was a portrait of a massacre. Babylonia was even worse.
Yet, despite their ghastly appearances, Sanceul felt a cheerful glow radiate from the mother, and from herself. The pups would someday grow old. Their heritage predicted the birth of killers; possibly they would kill her, or Damien, or others. They might even be worse than Morgan, she considered. But for the moment, their innocence blinded her judgment, and the healer nudged the second pup to sit beside her brother.
In shooing the pup, Sanceul realized that the blood loss was growing more worrisome. She sprang up to mend the wounds, wondering how much longer Babylonia could handle this.

[Sivoncé™]

Through the onslaught, Babylonia saw her daughter join her in the realm of living. The pain was onto her now; there was no defense or temporary barrier against the ferocity of the pain that ripped murderously at her underbelly. Her lips quivered and struggled to frame around the words.
"I-Ishtar," she gasped. Suddenly, the pain took on a new dimension. Fire skyrocketed throughout her entire bodice. Instinctively, she twisted with the sudden bout of flame. She struggled to remain in a fixed position, but continued to twitch as her vision blurred out of focus.
No...there's more...I have to hang on for them....
Death loomed hungrily over her.

Little Ishtar squirmed closer to the source of warmth near her mother's face; she bumped against something moist, but warm and squealing like herself. She snuggled impulsively next to Sargon.

((I don't think Njack and Flisk are coming any time soon...should we just say two more pups were born so Sanceul and Babylonia aren't frozen here? ))

[.Rabid Lycan.]

((yeah, that would probably help speed things along, and we can handle them later ^^))
Sanceul jumped back, avoiding the convulsing shape of her patient. Her muscles tensed, twitching with apprehension as she mentally prepared herself for the second option.
If she can’t give birth on her own, I’ll need to tear them out. But, dear Lupus… I don’t want to do this.
Her eyelid itched, a cringe seizing her stomach and chest at the idea. The actual destruction was not an issue, but the familiarity scorched her conscience and rooted her to the ground. Narrowing her eyes, Sanceul reached forward and attempted to pin the mother down. The gash could no longer be mended to any successful or even helpful extent without the proper tools. The goal was entirely focused on the pups first, and the mother second.
“Almost!”

Squeaking in protest, and then in acceptance, Sargon blindly nuzzled against the sudden source of warmth. Identifying with his sibling, he squealed aimlessly, oblivious to the suffering of their mother.

[Sivoncé™]

Almost...almost, damnit, almost!
But the fire was cutting off her veins, cutting off her airways, and blazing in the back of her eye sockets. There's no way I'm going to make it, Babylonia realized with an exponentially expanding paranoia. I can't die! Not now, I can't leave them! If I die now...
The horror of what could happen to her newborns momentarily outweight the terror of her pain. A plethora of scenarios flitted through her mind, none of which contained an outcome that was accpetable by Babylonia's standards. Too much could happen to them before I come back...and I don't even know how long something like that takes, or what'll happen to me in between...no, I can't let this happen.
A feral snarl sprang to life on her lips as she gave one last violent thrust of force. Out! You need to be out, now!
A third pup emerged.
Tears streaked down the broken face of the she-wolf. She was unrecognizable as the tears crashed down from her ice-colored eyes. Whimpering in despair, she pressed forward weakly, though she knew it was of no use. The last one...I can feel it...and I can't even...
I have to...even if I die...Assyria will return...it's not ideal, but I can ask this wolf that much...and then give her free passage...her and whatever family she has...
Push...one more time...push...and then I'll tell her...
She focused the remainder of her strength on birthing the final pup.
For a moment, her eyes rested on the hazy figure of her fourth infant.
And then her head rolled back and Babylonia's body shuddered to a sudden stillness.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Sanceul collapsed onto her haunches, gawking disbelievingly at the deceased wolf. Babylonia was in ruins, with the misshapen scar still pooling blood even with her makeshift surgical handiwork. But, at least, the dreadful caterwauls had ceased, and the gypsy sighed heavily in a combination of relief and exhaustion.
She managed to tear away from the image of the body, grooming the new additions to the litter while mindlessly assessing herself. Her paws had always bore a scarlet coat, but now a splatter of deeper and darker red patterned her body. A few stray pieces of decaying tissue lay at her paws, though she ignored it. As of now, the pups were cold, and the carcass would not sustain heat for long.
Much to Sargon’s dismay, Sanceul pulled the two others to her side, nudging all four offspring together at her paws. She curled her tail over them, offering as much heat as she could, but looked up suddenly. Sanceul scanned the clearing, the death of her project reawakening the original anxiety with her.
How the hell am I going to get out of this place? Are they really going to let me out? I mean, if she was their leader… well, she’s not here right now, and didn’t give them any instructions, as far as I heard… what if Regulus or Morgan shows up?
Sargon whimpered pitifully, and she hushed the male with a brush of her nose.
And… what, do they expect me to feed this litter? I’ve never nursed pups before!

[Sivoncé™]

((Should Assyria come back with Sumer? Short post, sorry, but I didn't wanna plop them in there without your OK. ))

Ishtar whimpered pitifully as Sanceul nudged her into place beside her siblings. The coldness that had descended around her was most unagreeable; her wail grew louder and more promounced, but quieted slightly as Sanceul wrapped herself around the pups.

Luckily for Sanceul, Regulus was facing off with Bain on the other side of the valley.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

((yesh, go ahead; I think I'm gonna go ahead and leave with another short post 'cause my dad'll be on my case soon... again xD))

Sargon struggled about, rubbing noses with his sister as he dived deeper into the new source of warmth. He mumbled hungrily, eager for food, but still more preoccupied with his search for heat. He accidentally kicked the smallest of the bunch, another sister, in his pursuit of fur.

Above them, Sanceul angled her ears toward the forest. She was thankful that the surrounding brutes hadn't approached her, but the presence of the pups would assure her that. I can't stay here forever...
Unknowingly to her, two figures were already heading toward the camp, and was yet to decide if they were friend or foe.
After this, I'm going to force Lucifer to catch me a buck, swallow it whole, and then sleep for three days in a row. This is ridiculous.

[Sivoncé™]

Assyria led Sumer far from Destinian territory and directly into the outlands of the roamer wolves. He's probably never been this far before. Most packwolves barely venture out of their own territories...except for to attack each other. Ironic.
As they began to approach the camp, she spoke gently to her brother, "Sumer...I guess I'd try and understand if you were to...return to your brother," she said, though her tone implied the opposite, "but...if you ever do leave us, please do not give away our location. It might mean the end of us if the packs became aware of our headquarters. Oh...and...Mom had a bit of a painful accident last time she was alive. She's giving birth with a few painful disabilities, so don't take it too personally if she's a complete nutcase when we go to see her," she smiled brightly at him, humor twinkling in her eyes.
I have a feeling you and I will get along just fine.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Sumer’s approach was tentative, the unfamiliar landscape cloaked in a veil of still more unfamiliar scents. As with most of his pack—former pack, he corrected himself—there was little gain in roaming outside the restricted borders. And, to add to his unease, the sole large venture from Destinian terra resulted in the loss of his toes and the near death of his rogue friend.
I wonder how Amoret’s doing…
A voice roused him out of his ponderings. A shy smile spread across his muzzle, and he nodded his assurance. Euphrates wouldn’t approve, but it’s the least I can do for them… besides, Euphrates isn’t here right now.
The odor of wolves, combined with the distinct reek of charcoal, augmented with every second, and soon he had taken his first step within the Hellfirian stronghold.

Sanceul angled her ears toward the entrance, observing unblinkingly as a pair entered the camp. She did not recognize either scent, which was a good sign, but she remained tense. Her onyx orb flashed slightly, and she suddenly wondered about what should be done with Babylonia’s corpse.

[Sivoncé™]

Assyria smiled kindly at her brother, but it faded with every step she took. Slowly, she looked forward. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and the beginngings of a perturbed growl formed in her throat. When I left last, Mom was near hysterics. There's no noise, no sound....nothing. I know she's...Mom, but she was ripped to pieces before she died, and then she went into childbirth...no one is that good!
She picked up her pace and hurried towards the place she had left Babylonia. She rounded the bend to find her mother crumpled and defeated; she was a shriveled shell compared to how Assyria had left her...
Tiny, soft sounds tingled in the back of Assyria's ears. She whirled around, and her eyes landed on the form of an unfamiliar wolf, curled around four tiny, squirming bodies.
"And just what," she snarled coldly, "do you think you're doing?"

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Assyria radiated a silent message, assuring Sumer that their kinship was true. Without looking at her—without scenting her—he could sense a connection between them. Whether sincere or imagined, he instinctually knew that he was amongst family.
Likewise, his ears folded back and his withers flew erect as suspicious vibes exuded from her person. An automatic stiffening of his body accompanied the discovery of an apparently unwelcome guest.

The gypsy glanced up, narrowing her eyes at the newcomer. Any traces of the emotional cascade had ceased to flow, and the arrival of the duo cued a revival of her typical nature. Meanwhile, the pups continued to moan and compete for comfort at her side.
“I’m lying down. What are you doing?”

[Sivoncé™]

Assyria's patience wore thin and gave way to an icy rage that was poised to blizzard at a moments notice. She paced slowly to stand in front of Sanceul and glared murderously at her. She pulled back her lips to reveal rows of pointed, irate fangs. Snarling once more, she addressed Sanceul, "Stop playing smart with me and explain yourself. What happened and what are you doing here? You do realize we are very fond of the eye for an eye rule around here?" Her eyes flickered once to Babylonia's ravaged body and then returned to tunnel into Sanceul's skull. "If you're having some memory loss, I'll just have to reenact the best I can, won't I?" For the moment, she'd completely forgotten Sumer. Her eyes were tinged with crimson fury; Assyria had lost her composure and given herself completely over to the beast.

On the other side of the camp, Amoret was perched on a rocky overhang, looking down at the few remaining Blood Mist that had opted out of the battle with the Yozorans. Miserably, she watched as two new wolves strode leisurely into the camp. Amoret sighed softly to herself, and turned to get a better look. Unlike Flisk or Neveria, the Blood Mist methods weren't turning her into a monster of any sort. Quite the contrary, she felt mildly irritated that they were being so stubborn with their processes. Though she was beaten regularly, she'd grown used to it. The routine they forced her through was tedious, and dull. More than anything else, Amoret felt a boredness and homesickness. She lay in waiting for the Blood Mist to slip up in their charade. And then, I'll be the one strolling off into the forest. She eyed the newcomers warily. There's something about the male.... She strained her ears to catch their conversation. Then, the female who accompanied him uttered his name.
Sumer!

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Sumer trailed after his sibling, listening warily to the heated aggression of his sister. In any other situation, he would have been horrified by this display. Assyria was not behaving at all; she was monstrous, reeking of the bloodlust that so defined the Hellfirian colony. But, for now, his eyes fixated on a particular corpse. Ignoring the ivory fae, he drew himself forward to look down on the remains of his mother, unable to fathom what could have happened to her.
His ears folded, and he did not notice that, elsewhere in the camp, a pair of familiar orbs had rested on his form.

Sanceul chuckled delightedly, the polar counterpart to Sumer. Despite the recklessness, she was overcome with a sudden obstinacy, and refused to submit on Assyria’s terms. And, aside from that, she found the situation quite humorous. “ Ha, joke’s on you—I’ve already had my stomach been ripped open! And I don’t plan and getting pregnant any time soon, so…”
Clearing her throat, she tilted an ear sideways. The pups squirmed against her underbelly, and she was fairly certain that Assyria would avoid dealing a death blow with Bablylonia’s children so near in proximity.
“…but if you must know, you guys left me in her care without any spare time or herbs. What did you think was going to happen? It’s a miracle we even got the pups out as it is. Fortunately for your friend here, she has a free ticket back to this insane asylum, and she should be able to stand on her own for a little while without the stress of pregnancy. So, hey—I did my best. What’re you gonna do? Kill me?”