Alone in the Snow

It wasn't just a grinding back ache this time. Talithe, heiress of Fairmoon, ancient wise druid shan'do without a jot of common sense dropped the chunk of Darnassian bleu halfway to her mouth. She stroked her hand over the mound of her pregnant belly, where the tightening achy sensation was becoming impossible to ignore.

“You'll know when it's time.” The memory of a sister night elf's wise words came into her mind and that's when she knew, she just knew, that it was time to send a message to her consort, to hurry back home. She leant against the side of the door frame to their home in Winterspring, frowning, slowly rubbing at her belly as she waited for the pangs to pass. As soon as the pain eased, she reached her hand out to the collection of assorted wildlife that seemed to be attracted to her wherever she went. Her gaze passed over a moth, a white fox kit, a half-grown wintersaber cub, and an alpine rabbit, coming to rest on a pure-white crested owl. She took a few steps into the house, picked up the blue-handled wooden baby rattle, a gift from her mother, and tied the label to it. “Moridoes”, it read. Giving it to the owl to carry, she shaded her eyes from the low dusk sun rays as she watched it fly away. All she could do was hope the message got to its destination in time.

She began pacing, until the next pang made her lean against the wall, groaning quietly and swaying her hips from side to side. She murmured to herself, repeating affirmations in Darnassian with a formal accent “My body will birth this baby as easily as the earth bears trees and wildflowers. I  will blossom open like a flower and be a safe passage for this baby. This baby will be healthy in all ways. I trust my intuition to birth this baby in the perfect way”. Another aching contraction, soft cries as she let her body do the work it needed. In between the pangs, she paced, letting her mind follow the needs of her body. Sometimes she paced to the door to look out, watching the night draw in, hoping he would come to her, and bringing help. She longed for her mother, but strongest of all her desires was her instincts to run. To hide with the wintersabers, curl up in one of the dens, to shapeshift and give birth like an animal, surrounded by feral kin. Tali knew she had to fight the instinct. Who knows what harm she could do by shapeshifting in such a state. She leaned her forearms against the walls of her home, tucked her head between them and growled through another pang.

By the time the sun had sunk below the horizon completely, she was already exhausted. She knelt besides the bed, her cheek lying on the covers, moaning with pain and tiredness, swaying her hips when she could. She lifted her head to look out the window. Her nocturnal eyesight gave her a view into cold night, the moonlight bouncing off the snow and painting the area with an otherworldly blue. Tali loved the solitude of her home, but tonight she needed company, she needed her mother, she needed the priestess, she needed her consort. The only creature in sight was a large, sleek-maned wintersaber, white with light purple stripes the colour of moonlight on the snow. It padded slowly to the house, its extra large paws crunching through the snow. With a silent, ghostly tread, it shouldered its way past the loose-hanging door and came to sit besides her. The wintersaber matriarch was an old friend of Tali's, a companion during the years Tali had ran from Kaldorei civilisation and hid in the trees and dens of Winterspring. As the strong-hearted animal seated herself besides the labouring night elf, Tali changed her position to lean not against the bed, but against the huge feline that dominated the space. Grateful for the support, but exhausted and starting to doubt her body's strength, Tali groaned and panted as the pangs overwhelmed her.

The first trickle of sunlight was twinkling on the frozen snows outside the cottage when Tali's consort, Moridoes, came running to the cottage. Out of breath, he paused for a moment, his heart hammering in fear at the silence within. His eyelids pink from lack of sleep, his long green hair wind ruffled by the urgent hippogryph ride, his jaw set in a tight line from arguments with his proud mother in law, he pushed at the half-open door and burst into the cottage.

Tali was seated on the floor, her back resting on the bed, propped up tiredly by a huge silky-furred saber. She looked radiant, proud, her exhausted face reminding Mori of a triumphant battle-worn warrior. Then his attention was torn away from her face to the bundle in her arms, swaddled in the traditional manner, purple-skinned, long eared, big bright shining eyes. She lifted the baby's head as its father approached, helping him to see better. Mori felt his knees weaken as he came close, found himself kneeling in front of his beloved mate, the big cat, and the newborn. Tali watched his face, smiling with pure delight as Mori tenderly pushed the fabric away from his baby's face, taking in every wonderful detail. He slipped an arm behind Tali's back, and she moved slightly, leaning against him instead of the wintersaber.

“Look, Mori, our daughter.”

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