[Source]

Silk | Brawler of Genosses | 4yrs 3mo
Location: Whelping Den

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Silk stared down to her pups as Mercy exited the den. Yellow eyes would glance up just to watch the Beta's frosted tail leave the darkness of the whelping den and out into the open. The scents of the males have returned, and so has the scent of a kill. Ears swiveled as she heard the carcass being plopped in front of the den, and saliva would begin to accumulate upon her tongue, stomach growling whilst thinking about her next meal; she sure was hungry. Attention would be averted to Calypso, who congratulated the Brawler and lowered her maw down to her own. Lifting her head slightly, wet nose would touch the caretaker's and tail would wag. When the calico fae asked for the names of the pups, Silk cocked her head slightly, eyes flickering down between the two beautiful female pups. She hadn't thought of a name for the girls, as she wanted Vladimir's approval first before making any official decisions. As the charcoal dusted fae thought, an eerie howl would sound from the forest and Silk's head would fling upwards, ears flipping as well, as eyes stared out towards the den entrance. It was Mercy, who was mourning for her deceased pup. The pack joined in on the howl, becoming a chorus of melodious song, with ranges of high and low. Silk flattened her ears and whined, not being able to join in the howl. She was exhausted, and she didn't want to frighten her own offspring. Maw lowered once again to nuzzle the two suckling pups as the howl came to an end. The fae thought of how Brooke and Mercy mentioned the potential idea of having another brood looking after her daughters while she'd continue to train for rankings. As thoughts churned and mind wandered, the brutish Vladimir strolled into the whelping den, intent on seeing the litter. Excited whines would welcome the Beta, along with a wagging tail and multiple licks to his cheek as he knelt down in front of the trio. It has been hours, or even days since the two shared intimacy together and to watch as Vladimir first laid eyes on their litter, Silk smiled and continued to whine submissively. "Yes, the births went well. Our daughters are the picture of health," Silk said softly, soft breaths in between words as she spoke. Albeit Mercy losing a pup, she had also gained a son, and that would not go unnoticed. To the inquiry of names, Silk hesitated before looking down to the litter, joining Vladimir as she stared in curiosity. Staring at the larger, darker pup, Silk smiled and said soothingly, "The larger one will be Quake. As in an earthquake. Powerful, with a loud presence. She seems to be the most rambunctious out of the two." The warrior paid attention to how Quake would suckle slightly more aggressively than the other. As focus turned to the smaller daughter, though smaller not by much, she admired her beauty and how her lighter coat reminded her of her father. "The other one will be Elizaveta. Elegant and graceful. She seems to be more quiet and less aggressive for a newborn. A beautiful name for a beautiful pup," she would say quietly, looking back up to Vladimir with flat ears, looking for a potential nuzzle or kiss. After the Beta male reacted, Silk would peer out towards the courtyard, the smell of blood and flesh flowing into the whelping den, taunting her tastebuds. "The hunt went well, I see," she said with more of a strong tone than before. During the birth, Silk had thrown up what ever remains of a meal were left in her stomach, and even then it was mostly stomach bile. The pups would get antsy soon, and begin to whine if milk ceased to produce. Perking her ears up and rubbing her muzzle upon any fur of Vladimir's she could reach, Silk whined subtly, "Would you mind grabbing me a piece of the elk? I don't want to disturb the pups." It was more of a suggestion for the male than a command, as Silk was still well aware of the ranking gap between the two mated wolves. Eyes would flicker towards Calypso just in case Vladimir found himself to be preoccupied, but she noticed just then that Mercy left Calypso to watch her only pup. Ears would flop awkwardly, gaze then returning to the sultry eyes of Vlad.

 Source

Elizaveta ● Infant ● Newborn ● Whelping Den ● Mentions: Quake

Elizaveta nursed quietly, soon becoming the epitome of the word 'warm', her miniature paws gradually ceased in their urgent kneading as she was being granted more than her fair share of the delicious meal. The opaque, white fluid would stain her tiny muzzle as she released the teat upon feeling her stomach grow full. Such a feeling combined with the newly renovated warmth brought forth an experience of weariness.
Her body wiggled as she dragged herself closer to that of the second being, blindly seeking with weak paws and a searching nose. The contact of soft pelage was a welcome sensation, and the whelp would find herself pressing closer to the source, stretching out her frame and pillowing her skull on what she could only describe by touch was perhaps another full teat. Gaping her toothless mouth in a whimpering yawn, Elizaveta would soon grow silent.
She rather liked this in contrast with her previous living space, there were new sensations she hadn't known about prior, such as how wonderful scents were or how much more comfortable being warm was when she was surrounded by body heat. Elizaveta's body would begin to rise and fall in rhythmic breathing, signaling her slow spiral into sleep, a few soft sounds would slip from her throat as she succumbed to slumber but she was otherwise quiet.

•
"You have your claws, your fangs. I wield a different type of weapon."

Calypso | Female | 3 years | Caretaker (Head)
Mentions: Mercy; Mercy's Pup; Silk; Silk's Pups; Vlad

Calypso swept Mercy's Pup up and sat herself down to Silk's right, coddling it between her paws. Honey eyes lingered on the recent cubs for a moment, admiring their delicate forms. The clicking of claws soon alerted her to Beta Vladimir's arrival, to which she dipped her head and folded her ears back in respect, smiling graciously as she shifted over. "You've done well, Beta," she cooed happily, "They're beautiful." The names spoken caressed her pointed ears the way freshly bestowed monikers often did, coaxing another smile from her pointed muzzle. "Excellent names for excellent cubs."

[Short and crappy, I know. Writer's block is the worst.]