To make up for not keeping up with my update every 3 days, for the next 3 days I shall update EVERY day. Yay! That should get us all caught up.

We now return to your usual program.

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More babies! Neara gives birth to lambs and they were not cooked for a big fat greek wedding. Also, not entirely sure the human birth canal was shaped for, uh...sheep...

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Loud thumping on the door woke Shay with a start. Baby snakes rained down from her head as she sat up, rubbing her face hard. Since the first snows, she and Ryan had taken to sleeping by the fireplace in the mainroom. Ryan got up a few times a night to restore the wood on the fire, leaving the room with a gentle, amber glow.

Before Shay had finished her first, incoherent mumble, Ryan had stepped over her and to the door. Her mumbles turned to hisses as a thin stream of biting cold slipped in. Instantly she called for her babies, which zipped beneath the covers. At least, all but the largest, who simply dug deeper into her hair from around her neck.

"Neara needs Shay," gasped the familiar tenor of Theo.

"At this hour?"

"She's in labor. She's scared."

Shay perked up, fighting to get her eyes open. Waking up was always a laborious task for her.

"Whatty whatty?"

"She's gotten the message. I'm going to close the door now."

Shay couldn't see how Theo responded, but the door closed, the cold stopped, and the thick warmth of the fire took over once more.

Ryan returned to her side, though she saw his eyes flicker to the baby about her neck. When he had first met the baby snakes, he had a moment of sheer terror that turned his dark skin grayish and his body rigid. Then, after a few moments of closing his eyes and breathing slowly, he'd come forward and introduced the back of his hand to the flickering tongues of the babies to recognize his scent. Though Shay told him he didn't need to push himself, that seemed to be the only thing Ryan knew how to do.

Even now, she could see the hidden desire in his eyes to rip off the baby from her neck and throw it as far as he could--and that he hated himself for feeling like that.

"It's okay," she said in her half awake state, easing off the sleeping boy from her neck. "It's okay to be scared."

"Even before snakes became part of my family, it wasn't okay," he said lowly, closing his eyes and breathing slowly. "Your friend is waiting. I'll get Parker to watch the babies."

"No, wait," and tugging him back down into the nest, she lifted the baby, which had just lifted his head in confusion, and set the baby on his lap.

Ryan stiffened, but did not pull away, as he always did with the babies. He never stopped himself from touching them.

"They know your scent. Right, Lazy Boi?"

The baby, the very same one whom she had helped out of his egg, twisted about as though to return to her, the few blue spots on his back looking green in the firelight. Before his head could reach her wrist, she dropped him in Ryan's lap. For a moment, the snake froze, just as still as Ryan, then probably realized he was too tired to care and curled up.

Shay crawled out, lifting the blanket, where the other babies not trying to cling to her hips, waited.

"They won't hurt you. They know you."

And because she didn't expect him to crawl into a den of snakes, she instead took each baby out one by one and set them in his lap. There, they curled into a pile, tucking their heads in.

She kissed him on the cheek once the last baby, the lone little snake with a black stripe up its sides, was deposited.

"You can stop me. We can still have Parker watch them."

But he scooped up the pile of babies and slid back under the covers.

She gave his ears a rub and pressed their foreheads together.

"You're the bravest man I've ever known."

With one last peck, she went to gather her fur clothes, including the fur paw boots Curtis had taken the most time in creating, and stepped outside.

Instantly, her face tightened. Her airways burned. Covering her mouth, she stepped across the frozen, beaten path to the small cabin where the boys slept. A frantic creaking followed her knock and the door opened.

But rather than Parker or Harvey, Joseph hung out the door, bright eyed and...bushy-tailed.

"I heard," he said. His tall fuzzy ears stood tall, alert like the soldiers they were. "I'm ready."

"I'mmmher guard'n," half yelled, half mumbled Parker from inside.

"Shay?" said Harvey. Also sounding just woken up.

But Joseph had already shut the door behind him. The handle clunked against the spear slung to his back.

Shay frowned at his fully loaded gear, but since she had already wasted enough time waking up herself as she transferred babies to Ryan, she nodded and jumped back onto the well beaten path to Neara's.

On the way, she asked Joseph how he ever slept with such sharp hearing.

"I've simply trained myself to know what to listen for. Theo's tone was enough."

"Huh. Is there anything you rabbits haven't trained in?" Because she also remembered a mean horn-root soup Joseph had made earlier that same day.

"Reproducing."

The cold air bit a bit harder as heat rose up to her chilled face.

Speaking of reproducing, Shay could hear Orson's angry barking the moment she stepped into her front yard. Before she had even knocked, Winston answered the door, his usually stoic expression even harder than usual.

"The rabbits stay outside," he said, solid as stone.

From behind came a chattery, "H-h-hey, Joseph! Come stand by the fireplace!"

Shay frowned at the even whiter than usual Theo poking his head around the side of the house, but didn't question it. Birthing as a sacred event, even back in her world.

"Joseph, you and Theo head back home. Tell Ryan I said you can stay in the house." She'd already questioned the men on why they'd built their cabin so darn small, but apparently males went for simplicity when it came to female-less sleeping places.

"I should guard you," said Joseph.

"Because Winston and Orson are going to let me be kidnapped. Just go before Theo freezes to death."

And before either rabbit could argue, she stepped in after Winston and allowed him to close the door behind him.

No sooner had he done so when a thin grunt issued forth from Neara's bedroom.

Shay made short work of stripping off her excess furs and running to the doorway. Inside she found Orson holding Neara much the same way as Curtis had done for her, with her arms around his neck and holding her up so gravity did some of the work. Though what Orson lacked was a long snake body to give him extra height, leaving him kneeling as tall as he could and Neara dangling weakly while her thighs shivered. A loose fur blanket had been wrapped about her hips.

While understanding the position, one look at Orson's tight expression told her he was beginning to doubt this himself.

"Why are you holding her like that?" Shay snapped, just holding herself back from slapping him. "You look like an idiot."

"Shay..." whimpered Neara, trembling like a branch in a gale.

"She suggested it, nevermind that I'm the doctor," he growled.

"And you just let her do what she wants? Of course you did, back off. Winston! You do what Orson's doing, you're actually tall enough."

Orson stiffened. "These are my babies-"

"Which is why you're obviously freaking out despite being a doctor. I can't even hear your subtle hatred for the world anymore, so move."

Because Orson had to move. Even though Winston appeared by Orson's side the moment Shay had called, hands held out, he made no move to extract the 'true' mate from Neara's side.

Neara didn't fight as Orson peeled her arms from around his neck and transferred her to the much taller and broader Winston, whose large hands shook just as hard as Neara as he wrapped his arms around her.

Instantly, Neara looked much more comfortable, although she let out another whimper as a contraction once more seized her.

But Orson didn't yet leave, standing there, like a deer caught in the headlights, just staring as Neara wept and trembled.

"Oy, doctor. You going to boil some water or something?"

He flinched. "B-boil water?"

"To sanitize it from sickness. Got anything to help with the pain?"

"Right, right, I-I'd even prepared it beforehand," he said, mostly to himself, then all but ran out the room, tripping on his way out.

Rolling her eyes, she went to Neara's side and touched her shoulder.

"I'm going to wash my hands and I'll be right here, okay?"

Neara nodded, her eyes clenched as tightly as her mouth.

After exchanging a look with Winston, Shay followed Orson back into the main room. She had to ask three times where the soap was before he pointed it out, pulling down stone jars. By the time she'd finished washing in the bowl of melted snow Neara kept by the door, he'd already returned to the room, all without a single quip.

Despite the tension in the air, Shay couldn't help but smirk.

Who'd think he of all people would lose it?

Back in the room, Neara had let out a gasp. Shay's sharp nose picked up the scent of blood. Orson had already moved aside the blanket, revealing Neara's parted thighs. Her long fur tunic protected her modesty. Orson brought out one of the jars, covering his fingers with what smelled like comfrey and basil and reaching under to rub on either side of Neara's legs. It was far from the dark green poultice Ryan had used. In fact--she took another sniff--it smelled very different too, though it may just be the overwhelming use of comfrey.

Shay waited, mostly stroking Neara's head and singing random celtic tunes while keeping an eye on Orson, who's pupils had expanded to moons and his breathing shook. It concerned her. Both Curtis and Ryan had been so sure and in control when she had been in labor, and yet Orson looked like he himself was about to birth puppies. The only solid support in the room seemed to come from Winston, who didn't so much as shift his knees as he knelt there, supporting her.

A particularly agonized cry from Neara, strangled from her attempts to keep it in, sent the first prick of fear in her gut.

"What's wrong with you, Orson?"

The sheep flinched, those moon eyes flickering to hers. His mouth opened to retorth, his sharp eyebrows began to furrow, but then another pitiful cry from Neara and the laxing of her arms around Winston's neck turned his attention back, expression once more wan.

"Lambs...lambs are bigger."

"Bigger? They're still boys. You said giving birth to boys was easier."

Orson rubbed a pressure point on her hip, his lips pale.

"Lambs are among the biggest of beastmen young. In fact," he licked his lips. "I...I'm not sure of bigger."

A frog-like croak came from Neara, followed by her strained, "Screw you. Don't talk to me." She buried her face in Winston's chest and growled.

Winston gave Orson a look, which Orson ignored.

"They--they can be--they can be larger than female babies. Though since there's two--"

"But it's the size of female babies that kill!" Shay nigh shouted, a string of hysteria breaking through her cool.

But Shay's loss of cool seemed to be what Orson needed to snap out of it and back to his usual angry scowl.

"Well, now you get it! So stop stressing her out by being loud!"

"You're being louder than me!"

Neara ignored them, her face harder than Winston's, if possible, and she breathed through clenched teeth as each wave threatened to part her body.

With each new wave of pain through Neara, Shay silently swore to make sure Orson was killed should her friend die. Though, judging by the darkening shadows in Winston's eyes, she wouldn't have to worry about that.

At long last, with thick grunts barely making it past clenched teeth, a rounded, brown nose poked through. Orson picked up speed, gently tugging on the little nose until, with a big swoop of wetness, birthing fluid, and some blood, a little brown body slipped out.

The sudden loss made Neara go limp, her arms flopping down Winston's shoulders.

"You got one!" cried Shay. "It's..." Somehow, saying it was brown to the point Shay had thought at first that she was seeing her friend's poo didn't sound so charming. "...already trying to lift its head."

Gently, though with much more confidence than Shay would have ever hand, Orson lifted the lamb off to the side onto a seperate hide.

"Clean him up," he said to Shay, his hands backed between Neara's legs where the tip of another nose had appeared and Neara had gone back to clutching to Winston's neck, although she faced away from him as if straining to look out the window.

Shay ran out to the boiling water, wetting hides in the scalding water and waving them till they cooled enough. When she returned, the second's head poked through and the first lamb had started to bleat weakly. She dropped to her knees and set to work peeling off the embryonic sack and wiping off the blood and wetness. The little body swayed with each wipe, its new legs only strong enough to lift it enough to be affected by something as the push and pull of a wipe.

Another wrenching grunt, another slush of liquids, and the second lamb was born. Automatically, Shay reached out to accept the next newborn for cleaning.

Finally released, Neara collapsed against Winston, her arms falling from his neck. His hands tightened around her waist and he held her in his arms. The entire insides of her thighs were drenched in blood.

"Alright, set her down," said Orson, tightly.

Winston did so, with a gentleness that belied his fierce size and strength. Once horizontal, Orson set to work cleaning out the hides that had been used to catch the birthing fluids and afterbirth, then cleaning her up.

Neara said nothing, pale as the snow and completely spent, her stomach gone flat. Her eyes closed as she breathed in and out through her nose with great puffs of air.

Shay pulled over the leather blanket holding the bleating lambs. The first was already nuzzling around, searching for mom.

"Look, Neara. Babies."

She pulled the lambs within reach. Neara let the back of her fingers touch the damp wool. The first's head twisted around so fast, its unstable body nearly flipped over in its eagerness. It gave a louder cry.

"Babies..." murmured Neara, her tired eyes on the lambs.

Shay finished cleaning them up, her apprehension eased, though not entirely. New blood had already pooled at an alarming rate where Orson had cleaned it up.

Orson's eyes caught the darkened spot on the nest as well and his sharp frown somehow didn't look as sure. He brought in the tub of boiled water, which steamed in the warm air.

Neara, whose trembling had ceased with the birth of her last lamb, had started to shiver again. Even so, she kept petting the newborn lambs.

"Cold," she said. "They're cold."

Shay, who had sweat gathering on the back of her neck, frowned. She didn't need what bit of Harvey's training she'd had so far to know what that meant. She'd done enough of her own research back in her world to know.

"She's losing too much blood. She's getting cold because her blood pressure is dropping." And since pregnant women purposely made more blood to compensate for the loss at birth, for her to be showing these signs weren't normal. She flipped the hides over the lambs. "Orson, take your babies to the main room. Winston, carry Neara there as well. Get her close the fire."

Orson did so, though his movements were robotic. His expression had blanched at Shay's words, and his full-moon eyes had gone dark and distant.

Winston scooped up Neara, fur nest and all, and was the first out the door. Ever the man of action. Once he set her out, he put another log on the fire, careful to make sure it didn't spark.

Orson set the lambs besides her, both now looking around and crying.

Then he just knelt there, staring into Neara's face, his pallor matching hers.

"Babies," Neara muttered drowsily. "My babies..."

Shay, who had dropped by her side and lifted up her fur tunic to her chest, snapped her fingers in Orson's face.

"Wake up, doctor, and get some cotton."

He shook his head. "What? Why?"

"Why do you think?" Then, she curled her fists, and dug them into the too-soft flesh of Neara's stomach.

Instantly, Neara crunched up with a hiss.

Orson and Winston flew out, snapping away Shay's arms so quickly they almost tore her in two.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" roared Orson.

"Stopping the bleeding, dipshit! We got to stuff her with cotton and then massage her stomach to stop it!"

Orson's eyes shivered on hers. "Where did you... never mind." He disappeared into the backroom and came out with an armful of cotton, which he set next to her.

Shay zipped back to Neara's side, ignoring the pain in her shoulders from being yanked. She patted her friend's wild curly hair.

"It's going to hurt a little for a bit, but it's only for a moment, kay?"

Neara blinked at Shay sleepily. "Babies...crying"

"They were just born, dude, that's some pretty scary business. How'd you feel if you were squished out of your nice warm home through a super tight tube?"

Winston knelt at the fire with the lambs, rubbing their wooly coats with several furs, his eyes unseeing.

"Thanks," Shay instantly filled up on the cotton.

Then, stealing herself, she got between Neara's legs.

Only then did Orson finally react, grabbing her arm.

"I'm her mate," he said weakly. "I'll do it. You need to do the massage."

Depositing her load of cotton in his arms, and with no small amount of relief (best friends they may be but there was no level of intimacy that made stuffing cotton up your friend's vagina comfortable), she returned to Neara's side and set the balls of her palms this time against her lower stomach.

The cries Neara gave out were weak and muted, as if she couldn't muster the breath to express her pain. Despite their softness, Winston flinched every time.

But, at long last, and a new hide later, Orson said, with a mix of relief and disbelief, that the bleeding had slowed and nearly stopped. Only then did Shay let off on the massages.

By then, the lambs had fallen to sleep and morning light peeked through the cracks of the door.

Orson stayed kneeling between her knees, his hands covered in blood.

"When do I take the cotton out?" he asked faintly.

"You can probably take it out now. We just needed to encourage clotting."

His bloody hands moved forward.

"How...how do you know this?" Shay heard the unasked question 'How did I not know this?' "Was it the panther?"

Shay said nothing, since to do so would either result in a lie or a truth that was not her place to say.

When the dark lumps of cotton were removed and a blanket placed over the still sleeping Neara, Orson quietly stood up and left the house, his arms still bloody up to his elbows.

Winston and Shay exchanged bemused frowns.

"Should I go get him?" asked Winston.

"No," said Shay, thinking she might understand. "He thinks he almost lost his world. Man probably needs a moment."

With a nod