Farrowing
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 119283
|
Slowly Littlesee began to make friends with a handful of the animals. Her mind was quite slow, and she wasn't sure if it was simply because she was a pig or if it had eroded from disuse, but she found the simple animals to be pleasing enough company. They were welcoming and this place seemed quite safe. She wasn't quite "content," but she was certainly very close to comfortable. Until the first time she felt a kick. It happened in the evening, and she couldn't sleep at all that night. She couldn't stop thinking about the two lives she'd lived. She'd once been a noble knight, with a kingdom and an oath. But now she couldn't have felt further from that life, and it felt more real than ever: she would be a mother very soon, and she couldn't let herself be anything but a good one. How could she reconcile her old self with her current one? Was it okay to let her oath go? Even when now, with a voice, she really did have no reason to believe that a return to it was hopeless? A few months passed, and one day Littlesee was struck with an overwhelming urge to begin rooting around in the soil to create a sort of bed for herself. She was consumed with this directive, and after spending many hours on it before moving on to gathering sticks with which to line the outside of the depression, she slowly began to realize what was happening - or what was about to. She dedicated a full day to this, and was somewhat assisted by Leaps and Bounds, as well as a squirrel acquaintance of hers called Longtail. By the time it was done, she was feeling strong contractions, and burrowed into the nest she had built, lying on her side and, well, seeing her life flash before her eyes. She was, all at once, horrified by what was happening, but she had to power through it. And by the time it was finally over, she had so many little ones tugging at her belly that she had lost count of them. But she lay still, too completely exhausted even to lift her head to look. Longtail alighted just in front of her nose and said, "You okay, Littlesee?" She was probably fine, but that wasn't important. She blinked at him a few times and asked in a tiny whisper, "Are they?" He disappeared around the corner for a moment before returning, bobbing his head up and down erratically. "They look healthy. There are ten of them!" Ten. Ten? This was the final push that sent her into a deep sleep. She woke to a chorus of little voices calling, "Mama!" She opened her eyes, and there they were, all around her, tripping over her and each other: a litter of piglets. Leaps and Bounds stood nearby, and said, "I already took most of them to the pool." "Mama, you're finally awake!" cried one. "Are you okay?" And in that moment, she forgot Fred completely. He had no place in a moment like this. The days began to pass, and she slowly became used to the new routine: the children had to eat every four hours or so, and in between they wanted all their mama's attention. When she was tired, which was practically always, she wasn't sure how to entertain them in a way that felt... natural, so she did all she could: she told them stories about Allaria. They were too little to know better, but the animals who overheard found this very strange. She didn't even want to fabricate an explanation, so she told them to mind their business. Like normal children, they were quickly asking in excitement, "Can we go to Allaria?" But she told them, trying not to sound too sad, "Allaria is far out of our reach, young ones. We really have no place there anyhow." It wasn't long at all before she, seeing how much they relied on her, how she was their entire world, realized that she had only a few options moving forward. Of course, she would stay here and be with them until they were weaned, at the very least. But beyond this, she saw three paths: leave to pursue a return to her old life alone; stay here and accept the life of Littlesee forever; or leave, taking her children with her, to seek something new, but accept that she would never be human again. Of course, the last one, the only one that offered any hope at all of balancing between her obligations to her kingdom and her children, was by far the most difficult. Even if she could talk, she was a pig. What help could she possibly offer a human kingdom? And realistically, she would only be bringing her naive little children into terrible danger. Staying here was by far the easiest, and most tempting. Her only obligation was to her little piglets. She was safe and fed and even had some friends. Perhaps the best choice was to give up motherhood for the good of the realm, and seek a return to her old life, which she really truly did miss. She wasn't familiar enough with the porcine life cycle to know how long it would take, but one day her children would not need her anymore, and she would be free of her responsibility to them then. But the task of finding help seemed so dizzyingly insurmountable, and the notion of leaving them - even as adults themselves - so horrible, that she hated even to consider it. She spent many days grappling with this decision, and often her friends and children would ask what was wrong. She felt sick frequently, and eventually had to put the matter aside: she was little good to her children if she literally worried herself sick. After a little less than a month, her babies were already weaning, a reality that shook her, but even more so the realization that she had so enjoyed their reliance on her and this freuent opportunity to be close to them. The idea of never seeing them again at all filled her with a dark and horrible dread, such that she wasn't sure she could even be useful to Allaria, even if she could find a role to play.
|
6/26/2022 10:35:55 PM
Linking Enabled
Extending Enabled
25001623 episodes viewed since 9/30/2002 1:22:06 PM.