"You're getting fat, Klona."
"And Skogund is as mean as always, and so Skogund should just shut his stupid mouth before Klona scratches his eyes out."
"You're cranky, too. Why are you getting so fat?"
"Shut up, Skogund, before Klona climbs that stupid tree and rips out Skogund's throat."
He wasn't helping things. Klona ached. Her belly was round and fat, and every so often she'd feel as though something squirmed around inside of her. It was an awful, awful feeling. She hadn't even been eating much more than normal, really. Well, okay, maybe a little more than normal, but she had a ravenous hunger that demanded to be sated. Problem was, she was incapable of bringing down even the smallest prey, and so she had to rely heavily on Skogund, Herryk and Orvar to provide for her.
Not that they didn't usually, but it was happening much more often than it had before.
Her mood was also very extreme, and she could switch from tears to a blinding rage in a matter of mili-seconds. She could also switch from laughter to outright sobbing in the blink of an eye, and it was a little terrifying to the big males that looked after their kin.
However, any attempt to talk to Klona about it only resulted in tears or scathing remarks that were completely out of character for the usually mild-mannered and slightly odd lioness.
The three males had had a conversation, with explanations ranging from well that's just Klona to she might be pregnant - which was immediately shot down, because Herryk's precious little Pur-clone would never let a male touch her, not ever in a million years. Orvar, not wanting to upset his half-uncle, kept his opinions to himself about that matter, and he'd gone to Skogund in private with his concerns.
Skogund wouldn't hear it, but he'd started following his sister around twenty-four/seven, and though he'd never admit it, it was for just in case purposes. Just in case Klona was pregnant. Not that he thought she was, because that was ridiculous. All Klona could ever talk about was birds. Birds, birds, birds. That would never appeal to a male, in Skogund's eyes at least, and Klona was certainly not offering any clues.
Klona was miserable. She was getting fat, and her back hurt. Worse than that, though, was that her bird had disappeared once she'd started getting rotund. She'd gone through the forest screaming after Moska, finally crumpling into a ball when she'd been unable to find the bird. He had been a miserable little creature who was constantly mean to her, but he had been her dream - to have a bird of her very own. The fact that that nice lion had given the bird to her only made the bird a little more special, but the bird obviously hated fat females and now she felt like she was going to burst into tears again.
Which she promptly did.
The hoarse sobs that wracked her body only served to upset her belly - and that only made Klona sob harder. She merely flopped to her side which forced her round belly out and up - and that wasn't comfortable either, but Klona was absolutely miserable, and Skogund was right, she was getting utterly fat and now no bird would ever really want her, especially if all birds hated fat lionesses, and Klona would bet that Finna still had her stupid bird, and that made Klona angry.
The tears stopped, and Klona grunted as she struggled to her feet. She would kill that stupid bird of Finna's, and then none of them would have a bird and everything would be fair again. Almost forgetting that Skogund watched her, Klona slowly waddled off. He followed, actually moving on the ground instead of through the trees.
Pain settled in, low in her hips, and arched through her belly. She had to pause and take a deep breath, and she had the sudden urge to push - which she did, of course, because it didn't make sense not ********. ********, Klona, ********, stop, Gods, oh Gods, where's papa."
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Skogund standing over a small black pile of fluff - a small black pile of fluff that was connected to her still by some sort of vine, and Klona immediately panicked.
She screamed. Oh, how she screamed.
Skogund made quick work of the cord, which was a good thing because Klona was running towards the den she shared with her papa. It hurt, pain unbelievably acute through her back and hips and belly and everywhere. Everywhere, everything hurt. She never stopped screaming - though she did have to stop once more to push, which resulted in another little miniature lion with a vine still attached to her. This one was cream-colored, with stone-like markings on his foot and face designs that made her think of her papa.
So she stood there and screamed, loudly, until Orvar scrambled into view.
"Oh, ******** Klona was absolutely incapable of dealing with what needed to be dealt with, Orvar took control of the situation.
"Where is Skogund?!"
Klona merely screamed.
"I'm here."
"She's having cubs?!"
"She was pregnant, what the ********?! I'm.. I'm going to kill whoever did this to her, I'm going to ******** kill them, Orvar. I'm going to end the miserable life of whoever did this, Gods help me - ********, she's running again."
Klona was tearing off towards her den, sobbing madly as she ran. Thankfully she did not stop again, not until she'd gotten back home. Once she did, she let out an unholy scream - which produced yet another miniature lion. This one was white like she was, with a mark much like the one she had - and an eye-marking exactly like the nice lion that had given her the bird.
She had no clue what was going on. Had the bird been haunted? Klona sobbed wildly, and immediately began screaming for Herryk. Orvar and Skogund had caught up to her by this point, each of them carrying a small, mewling bundle of cub. Klona almost passed out. She was terrified, her eyes wild, and would not calm down until Herryk came forth from the depths of the hollowed-out tree with wild eyes.
It did not take long for him to realize what was going on, and he and his son shared a moment - a quick splice of time.
You will find who did this to our Klona, and you will destroy them.
Yes, papa.
"Come lay on your papa's furs, little Klona. You are safe now. Lay down here, and let your papa take care of you. Brother is here, as well as Orvar, and we are going to look after you, my little love. Breathe deep for papa, little one."
"Papa, there are little ones coming out of Klona!"
His heart was breaking. Herryk didn't know what to do, and Orvar stepped forward.
"Come to your papa's furs, cousin. Everything is going to be fine. We will take care of you, and we will take care of these little ones, too. Breathe deep, and calm down as best you can."
He moved to stand beside her, leaving Herryk to handle the little cream-colored lioncub whose leg looked suspiciously like that of Njal. He wondered if Skogund and Herryk had noticed. The pale white female carried markings similar to those of Njal's wife - and Orvar knew that only because Skogund took pleasure in watching the pride from afar, unnoticed and shadow-like. He'd come back to the forest with stories to tell.
They had noticed.
Panting now, Klona grunted and fell to the furs with a soft exhale of relief. She felt the urge to push, and her body urged her to do so despite what she knew would follow. This push resulted in a fox-marked cub that reminded her of her brother and her grandmother. Orvar made quick work of the cord, and settled the four cubs against their mother so they could nurse.
Klona let them, only because she was too exhausted to move by that point.
Herryk moved to rest at his little beloved daughter's head, and he softly murmured to Klona as he groomed her cheeks with tender gestures.
She pushed again. The resulting cub was a beautiful little dark female, brown of hair with gorgeous silvery markings that mirrored Klona's papa's, and Klona couldn't help but smile at the sight.
"That one looks like Klona's papa," she whispered proudly. She wasn't sure why she was feeling proud - she knew how babies came into the world, and she realized that she was a mother now, but what she didn't understand was how. Why. The babies looked like the nice lion that had given her the bird, and while they'd played an odd game, Klona had no idea about how babies were actually made.
Orvar and Skogund stood to the side, Orvar silent while Skogund paced. There was a rage in his gut, putrid and disgusting, and he wanted to find the lion responsible for this so that he could end him. And he would, in time. For now, he had to be patient and wait. For now, he had to look after Klona, because his sister was going to be an awful mother and the three males all knew it. They would have to force her to look after the cubs until they no longer needed their mother's milk, and Skogund only hoped that it would be easy and that she would not resent them for doing what they had to do in order to ensure the survival of her cubs.
Klona grunted and pushed once more, and the final cub was birthed. He was a huge cub, bigger than the rest. Along his side was the wing of his great-grandfather, the face markings of his great-grandfather and grandfather. The stone-like markings of Njal, and the same streak-like markings of the pale female, and also Njal's wife.
Skogund was intelligent. It did not take him long to come to the conclusion that the father of Klona's cubs was probably one of Njal's sons. Herryk came to the same conclusion at the same time, and their eyes met. They would not force the story from Klona. They would have to uncover the facts by themselves, and it would end in the death of the male who had dared touch their Klona.
The little lioness instantly began snoring as Orvar quickly cleaned the final cub, settling all six of the babes against their mother so they could each nurse. The last cub was the most aggressive of the bunch, and once they'd all been settled, Orvar moved towards Herryk and Skogund.
"It had to have been one of Njal's sons."
"But why?"
"I don't know."
"I'm going to kill whoever it was." This was from Skogund, of course, who was still pacing restlessly, claws unsheathed and teeth bared.
"Where is Burzum?"
"You know where he is."
"There is a new Warlord."
The three were silent for a moment, and Herryk exhaled softly.
"One of us has to be with her, always. At least until the cubs are large enough to move about on their own and old enough to eat a real meal."
"We'll take turns."
"One of us was not watching after her when she was ... when it happened."
The three were silent again. Orvar spoke. The situation was grim, but there were also practical things to think about.
"We can't let her name them. She'll call them all 'bird' or 'Klona' or 'Skogund' or 'Papa' - and I don't know about you two, but I think that's a terrible idea."
Herryk couldn't help but give a wry chuckle.
"We'll name them in time. For now, you two go out and bring back dinner. She'll be ravenous when she wakes. And Skogund, by the Gods, bring her a bird. I think it will be the only way to keep her home."
Skogund nodded before stalking out, stiff-legged and furious. Herryk paused to mutter to Orvar, "Look after him."
The white-maned lion nodded before following after Skogund, and Herryk was left with his daughter and her six perfect, healthy babies.
"Gods, Klona," he whispered affectionately against his daughter's cheek. "What is your papa going to do with you?"
WC: 2066
