Ψ · Leave your job

 The last days had been rough.

 Meissa moved like a ghost through the tunnels, restless legs straining even as stomach coiled within her. She needed to move, to breathe, to try to force the hot hair from within her lungs and stomach out and replace it with the cool air of spring. Though, she supposed, these tunnels were no good for that. While they might share cool air, caught by the distant hills and openings where these tunnels might escape, they were often far too muggy to clear a mind.

 Suddenly, she felt her heart lurch. She grunted at the unexpected feeling, one that drove hot air up her throat and out of her opened mouth.

 Yet, no, it was not her heart. Meissa leaned against the cold stone of the wall, panting as nausea threatened up her throat. Oh, fuck. She leaned there for a long moment until she felt the lurch again. What... She sat, nosing in her belly, pressing her snout into the thinning fur, and there.

 Another kick.

 “@Flynn” she called, stumbling to her paws as she tried to hurry back down the hall towards the rest of the Hiraeth. “Flynn!” Would he hear her? Would he answer?

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Of course, he'd heard her, the tall lad had been sitting around the bend as she came barreling through, still, a bit unnerved from her midnight adventure. Truth be told, he knew all too well of the panic that now filled her, as it wasn't long before her discovery that he'd felt it himself. Not in his own stomach, but as a firm kick to the back of his skull during his sacred nap times.

He'd thought that Mei had been doing some obsessive grooming, but this had been far too targetted and it made a soft growl leave his lips. Only to find out the little beans within her were being stirred in their pot.

“I'm here, I'm here.” Calmly spoken, eyes heavy with lack of sleep. He wondered if she knew what troubles she'd thrown at him with her outing, the poor fool could hardly slumber without believing she'd leave him. “What's a' matter?”

—

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 She skidded to a halt as she saw him, tails wagging furiously behind her. “They're kicking!” she said, out of breath. When they'd kicked before, whenever Flynn had noticed them - well, she'd been fast asleep and hadn't known that they'd been doing anything but sleeping quietly within her. Another kick and she blanched. “God, it feels weird. Like when you swallow a mouse whole.” Yes, that was exactly how it felt.

 Probably.

 Uri had no clue. Meissa would, though, and she moved towards him, pressing her nose into his neck. “Come, come, let's get back to bed and maybe you can feel them or -” she laughed softly. “I don't know, is that something you can see?”

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She approached him and he folded, pressing his head into her shoulder affectionately but... Oddly enough he pulled back, rather rashly, even. He, himself, found a funny feeling in his soul as he did it, but it hadn't stopped it from occurring. Clearly happy, just as he was tired, the male lifted to his feet and padded down the lengthy walkway until they were soon tucked away in the comfort of their den once more.

“They've been fighting meh for the past tew days, love.” Chuckling, fluffing the wool beneath his feet before comically crashing down a bit further from her in a loud 'humpf'. “Made me wonder if yew had a kickboxer in yur family!” Maybe she did, he didn't know! The lineage he knew of his bloodline taking had been of speed and endurance, it was only when whomever his father came in and threw a bit of muscle in the picture had his... Weird structure been born. “Lets us know they're strong, huh?”

—

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 She felt her betrothed pull back and she looked after him, confusion in her eyes for a moment. She was already on the mood before she got the chance to figure anything out about that - and onward she followed, trailing after him and always staying near enough she could feel the brush of his tail.

 “The past few days?” she asked, surprise clear in her slack jaw. “This is the first I've felt them!” Were they more active in her deep sleep, perhaps? She laughed and shook her head, “Maybe so, but I think your side has the legs,” She offered with a wink as she made her way onto the nest and curled up alongside him. “Lets us know they're strong and alive-” she cut herself off with a laugh.

 It was ridiculous.

 She had made, no, they had made something living and beating and moving inside of her. Little did she know but the next few weeks would be constant movement within her, rarely a moment when all of the little bastards would sleep and give her rest. She smiled and nestled into him. “I can't wait to meet them,” she decided, voice soft, “They won't have to worry about parents abandoning them.” There was no way in hell that she would leave these little ones at the edge of a desert or anything like that - not after being abandoned by her own parents. She'd decided early on that she was not going to be like them.

 Regardless that her mother was a neighbor just over the hill now.

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Flynn found her closeness smothering, and he responded with a quiet rumble—a growl held within his throat. Strange, as he still found himself placing his head at her chest, a yawn slipping from his muzzle. The only recognition he gave in response to the conversation was a gentle wag of his tail, covering his eyes with large, puppyish paws. It wasn't certain if the king was merely tired of speaking, tired in general, or tired of her. Either way, it was obvious he was lacking sleep by the reddish hue that tinted optics now closed.

Had slumber claimed him? No, not just yet, but the thickening of his breath was a sure sign it would soon. He didn't recall how long he'd been up watching Meissa as she tossed and turned in her dreams, but he knew she hadn't left since last he spoke of his discomfort. Still, with claws that slowly sunk into his brow, he couldn't help but wonder why... Or who... had called her to venture from him.

—

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 With his growl, she pulled back slightly, eyes turning to his even as he pulled his head close to her chest. He wished her near but then not - what was his desire? When she moved from him, he wished her to stay close but if she returned to him he would growl? She hesitated and then began to lap gently at the crown of his head, washing between his ears.

 If he growled again for space, she would stop and place her head on her own paws.

 Her eyes traced his features, not wanting to disturb his well needed rest but desiring so desperately to know what was going on through his mind. She knew her roamings were endlessly tiring for him, but how could she help the itch in her limbs? She now remained below ground, in the depths of the Hiraeth, so her scent never left where those of the pack held heavy.

 Perhaps after a sleep, they could rise to see the sun and could feel the crisp air upon their backs once more.

 She lay her head down and let out a gentle exhale, closing her eyes for sleep though now even that was disturbed by the beating upon her ribs and against her spine. This discomfort that rang out with each of her offspring's kicks on either side of her, threatening a glimmer of nausea with each flutter.

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