Word Count: 1015
Maziwa was antsy. The mountain wasn't the best place to conceive a little, but it did not stop her mother apparently. The older dog was stubborn though, and she had her way. Ziwa gave a huff, jumping down a rock to a lower level, balancing herself before she could stumble. Her stubborn mother didn't even have a den, even though she would give birth eventually.
Ziwa snuffed the ground, pawing for softer dirt, when Blancun nudged at her side. Blancun was a silent creature, offering an unwavering support. He was much like the rocks on this old mountain. He looked tired, but he smiled at her anyhow. "All will be well, Ziwa," he stated softly, though his voice carried along the wind and she heard the words clearly.
"I can't just sit around, Blancun," she snapped angrily, regretting the anger almost instantly, but he just nudged against her again. He received a small nuzzle in apology. "I can't..." She repeated, pawing at the dirt again with one of her white paws.
"I know, Ziwa. You'll build an amazing den for her." It was not confident, or a lie. He spoke it like a fact - like saying the wind blew or that rain fell. It was just... fact. She gave him a smile.
"Thank you..." She gave a chuckle. "I always forget that you are also a Whisperer and not just my companion and advisor." She moved, trying to find a good place to dig. Blancun trailed after her, watching every step she took. He hopped over the rocks easily, hooves built for this area. He was finally in his element, in a home he could enjoy.
They made their way a little lower into their territory. It centered off around a small waterfall that went lower into the mountains, but they often did not venture that low. It was attached to a stream that brought the most delicious water down from the top of the mountain. The ground was softer here.
Blanc scraped his horns against the dirt wall off the side of the small fall. Water pooled beneath the Fall, but stayed within it. He moved a little further off, not wanting water to splash inside the den they would build. He scraped his horns along the wall again, and it gave easily.
"Amazing," Ziwa whispered. The earth was soft here, but she knew there would be plenty of rocks underneath. She dug. She dug as hard as she could into the side of the mountain, dirtying her paws, but filled with determination. She cut her paws on jagged rocks beneath the surface, but kept digging. She needed her siblings to have a safe place to grow and flourish. They would be wonderful.
She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined them. She could only hope for a large litter. One that would make her pack flourish. Her mother was the first to fall pregnant in the new lands and the litter would be quite cherished.
But there were risks. Her mother wasn't young, and these were hardly the easiest conditions to give birth in. That was why she needed to make this area as comfortable as possible. Once they dug the den, then would be able to put moss and dead leaves in the bottom, and skins to make it softer.
Blancun was helping the best he could. He stamped the loose dirt down at the bottom of the opening, and he shoved the dirt out as best as he could. By the time she had made it deep enough for her body to fit comfortably in, he paws were bleeding badly. The white had turned red against her skin. She was exhausted.
Blancun nudged her up, even though he was as exhausted as she was. He forced to to the stream, rinsing her paws in the cool water. It stung against the wounds for a moment. "Everything will be okay," She murmured to him. He nodded, a noncommittal thing, as if he was not even paying attention to his companion. Ziwa sighed, watching the blood lift from her paws, leaving them white once again.
"One day I'll have my own pups, Blancun." She hesitated. "Perhaps, maybe. But I'll probably have to do this myself. It was hard," she admitted softly. The den wasn't even complete yet. She wanted to give up on the hole in the ground. Maybe it would just be a birthing den. A communal den for all the dogs here. It would be big enough, certainly.
Blancun gave a sigh, not revealing anything. "Have patience," he muttered. He bumped his flank against hers. Back when his birth-herd first fell apart, he would not have been this brave. He was skittish, and ran from his own shadow. Now he held his head high and walked with predators. He was a far cry from what he used to be.
And he could See, sometimes, into the future - the past - and just know things he shouldn't. It didn't bother him as much as he thought it would, but he couldn't reveal everything to his friend. That would make life hard on both of them. Ziwa would try to change things sometimes, so he just gave her small reassurances or warnings as he went. He was good at what he did, too.
"You'll see, Ziwa."
He gave her one last touch before trotting off to go join his mate - Ziwa's mother's companion. Ziwa always thought he was an odd little thing. Blancun's sister attached herself to the General of the pack, and she thought that even stranger. Still, she lifted herself from the stream, wincing as new dirt caked immediately to the still-bleeding paws. She would have to go somewhere and re-clean them, and just not move. She groaned and watched Blancun disappear over a ridge. He was cheeky, but she liked him and he was good to her. Sometimes, he was all she had.
She looked down at her aching paws, dragging herself to her sleeping spot. Next time, she would stop if she was in pain.
