Spring Fever

by Miss_Lv

Summary:

Rabbit Newt worries that he won't ever find a mate and will be all alone.
That is until he finds himself an injured and very handsome wolf named Percival.

Notes:

Ahahaha. Wtf is this even. Have some bunny Newt getting banged by Wolf Percival. :D

Newt knew he was strange.

It wasn’t that Newt didn’t care for the usual rabbit hobbies. Gardening was after all a vital key to surviving and making sure you had a structurally sound and pleasant burrow was also rather important. Newt did tend to them as well, he minded his garden and repaired any issues with his little burrow. It was just that, well the animals needed his help as well.

Poor things thought to be lesser creatures or too dangerous to deal with, left to fend for themselves in the forests where the predators lived.

Well, some of the creatures were predators themselves, but they could keep a civil tongue in their mouth if need be. Newt had treated many beasts that were supposed to rip him apart on sight. He had acquired a few scars over the years but again that was because they were afraid rather than looking to eat him.

So he was a strange sort.

But he was fine with that.

 

Newt kept his burrow right along the forest line where he could see the clear vast fields but also be near enough should he hear some beast in need.

“Mum wasn’t even surprised but dad still is, wondering if you’re going to move into the open fields where it’s safer one day,” Theseus lamented, clearly agreeing with their father. He wandered around Newt’s burrow, poking the smoothed clay walls and frowning when he found a nest for some little creature needing a safe place to stay.

“I’m very much happy where I am, thank you,” Newt replied politely, pouring a nice herbal tea for himself and brother. “I’ve no plans to move. Ever.”

“Then why not dig deeper?” Theseus peered down the burrow hall, there were three rooms, a bathroom, Newt’s bedroom, and a guest room. The hallway ended with a large flat wall that Newt had hung a lovely bed linen turned art piece by some occamy chicks who had gotten into his ink. Eventually, he would dig the burrow out deeper and add more rooms. It would be nice to have a good large study with room to treat his animals after all.

“There’s never the time,” Newt admitted truthfully, setting the tea tray down on the table and then pausing to make sure the Murtlap with the broken leg was able to reach his water. The Bowtruckles that live among his ceiling rafters chittered at him, all pointing urgently to the nearly empty bowl of fresh vegetables.

“Come now, you all can go and do some gathering for yourself, you’ll eat me out of house and home otherwise,” Newt lectured them lightly.

“Mum thinks you might spend your entire life like this, minding animals and always on your own,” Theseus told him, flopping on the worn couch and prodding his tea.

“I might very well,” Newt agreed.

“I don’t,” Theseus replied with a calm certainty. He was rather good at reading people and managing to sound very sure and official. It was why he was so well respected in the community. “I think you’d do well with a big family, the way you mind your animals reflects that.”

Newt looked away, busying himself with his teacup to cover the fact Theseus was right, Newt had always dreamed of a big family, many tiny feet thumping through his home. But by the time he did start his own burrow, Newt had realized it was unlikely he’d have any little ones. While he was a buck rabbit the nature of magic in rabbit breeds meant he could carry kits. Newt would prefer that, liking other bucks as he does. But it didn’t really matter in the end.

“I annoy people,” he admitted to his brother, a touch of a frown on his face. “I annoy them and I don’t rightly care. I don’t want to change myself, I like who I am Theseus.”

“Newt,” his brother huffed, putting his tea down and dragging Newt over on the couch so he could hug him one armed. “Newt you great big cabbage head. Finding a mate takes time, you can’t just go with the first person to come along and notices you. You have to wait for the right one, the one who makes you feel perfect the way you are.”

Newt blinked down at his hands and then allowed himself a small smile.

“Is this the excuse you give mum when she asks where her grandbabies are?”

Theseus threw his head back and roared out a laugh, still holding Newt close.

“I should, it’s a good one. Don’t worry about mating Newt, it’ll come in time. Although if you’d go to the villages or travel into the city a bit more it might help.”

Newt shook his head in negative, pulling away from his sibling. “I don’t like crowds. I’m always getting pushed around and stomped on.”

“That I can understand, you’d think a couple of feet wouldn’t be that big of a size difference but when I get shoved by a wolf, even unintentionally, I go flying. I feel for the mice and voles, anyone smaller than us really.”

The magical, as they were called, were a group of people that shared traits with various creatures. Their ‘base’ animals had no magic while there were some other creatures with magic but no magical counterpart. It was all very fascinating. But in terms of size, the magical were for the most part close to one another. However, there were differences, if their base animal was tiny they would settle around four or five feet in height. If their creatures were massive, they would be closer to six or seven. Their builds were diverse as well, rabbits were slender so Newt was trim, never gaining broad shoulders like a wolf or lion would.

“Mice aren’t that much smaller than us, it’s interesting how the magic chooses the strangest things, why do we have rabbit ears and a rabbit tail but not rabbit feet? That would have been helpful for running.” Newt mused, wiggling his toes in his shoes. Magical being shared some traits, feet, legs, torso, arms, hands and heads. Some things might differ some might have more fur or less, antlers or claws, but at their core, they shared the same form.

“I don’t right now, though I wish I had some fast feet, my spells for quickness never work quite right,” Theseus sighed.

Newt hummed in reply, distracted by his niffler poking its head from its nest. He must be getting hungry so Newt pushed up from his spot to go get dinner on the go.

“Either way, you should work on your burrow a bit, make a few new rooms, mum and dad would like that.” Theseus finished his tea and settled the cup on the tray, rising after Newt to grab him in a proper hug.

“Be careful with the spring fever passing, lots of creatures are a bit crazy right now, but also, go to a few festivals maybe? Your mate might be waiting,” Theseus grinned.

Newt wondered if his brother intentionally liked to give contradicting requests. Meet new people, but stay inside where it was safe.

Really now.

“I’ll see you in the fall if I finish in the city early. If not, first thing next spring I’ll visit.”

 

Newt did take his brother’s well-meaning suggestion to heart. He did want a larger room anyway so he moved the occamy art and began working on lengthening the hall bit by bit. Magic was useful but this sort of thing couldn’t be rushed. Burrows were sacred in a way, it was important to have your hands work on them as well rather than just spells alone. One should sweat over the labor, hands in the dirt and clay as they created their home, their own safe space from the rest of the world. 

Some burrows were made with dirt and clay, some with wood and stone, whatever material called to you. Does were the ones who made the borrows rather than bucks usually but it wasn’t wrong if a buck felt the call and made his own. No one had been surprised when Newt had decided to make one for himself. He used clay and wood primarily, building a nice underground structure into a small cliff drop. Newt was rather on the tall side for his kind so he built the roofs high and later went back and built them even higher as he found more and more larger animals in need of somewhere warm and dry to heal.

He was proud of his burrow overall, it was a bit cluttered admittedly but very well organized and carefully planned out, each little nest and bed for the creatures living with him done with intent. Even the pesky niffler Newt granted a nest in the open, just under his eye level so he could duck and check when something was missing and he needed it. His home was made to suit him and he rather liked it, he would extend it to many rooms as well, just in time rather than tomorrow.

Still, he worked on his hallway, spelling buckets to carry out the dirt as he dug with a shovel and his hands. A kind demiguise named Dougal helped Newt scoop and the occamy guided the buckets along when they got stuck. Even a family of Diricawl staying with Newt since the mama got a bit under the weather were finding stones and apparating them into neat piles. Together they made short work and so Newt started in on a study room, something big enough to treat the animals in need, high roof and wide pushed back walls. Newt worked away a bit when he could and his creatures really took to it. Even the niffler seemed to like digging away, finding shiny stones and rooting around for bugs.

Magic could clear all the dirt and stones away but Newt might need it to make clay later on. So he piled it up down by the river, not so close to his borrow to give its location away but close enough to be convenient. The stones he dumped into the river itself so the water could clean them and with enough time smooth any rough edges.

During a later evening, the sun setting and the dangerous of night beginning to wake, Newt took one last load of stones. He kept his smaller creatures inside, not wanting anything to pick them off. The foxes all knew Newt kept creatures and some had a taste for magical creatures, leaving traps around the area constantly. Newt, of course, destroyed everyone but they still kept popping up like pests. He had been thinking about finding a nice aggressive vine plant to chase unwanted guests off.

In the low light, Newt didn’t see the blood so much as smell it. A red smoke in the water when he looked for it. Blinking, his ears twitched and perked as he listened for any unusual sounds. Water lapped oddly somewhere and Newt checked up the river. There he found a slumped figure. Biting his lip worriedly, Newt collected his magic to his chest, building a careful guard in case he needed it. Some predators set traps like this.

Heading upstream he saw the lump slowly form into someone, not a creature but a fellow magical being.

“Hello?” He called, watching the body remain utterly still.

It was a wolf, a male wolf with pale skin and blue lips, body soaked, shivering, and ice cold.

“Oh my, come on then,” Newt pulled him from the water, grunting as he strained to move him. Wolves were a good size larger than rabbits after all. 

Once he was safe on the river bank, Newt checked him over, finding a solid iron trap on the wolf’s leg. It was bleeding sluggishly but steadily. Newt winced as the man-made iron made his magic wane, a human contraption meant to harm anything with magic. It was like poison and if this wolf had worn it too long he could very well die.

Biting his lip, Newt looked up when Dougal appeared at his side.

“Could you bring me the hammer and spike from the work shed?”

The beast went off immediately and Newt rolled the wolf onto his back carefully, pulling his own coat off and wrapping him up. Newt tried a few warming spells but the iron repelled them, stealing away all the magic it touched.

Dougal returned shortly with the tools.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Newt whispered to the poor soul, knowing it would hurt him. It was good that the wolf was unconscious for this part. Using the spike and hammer, Newt snapped the latch of the iron trap in one hard strike. It broke free but before it came loose it tightened terribly and the lurch from the strike made the wolf jerk and groan in pain.

“So sorry,” Newt apologized again, carefully getting the iron off his skin without touching it himself, using the hammer and spike as levers.

Once it was gone the wolf’s shoulder relaxed, his body taking in a deep breath, as if he hadn’t been able to before. Iron was a terrible thing for their kind. Newt pressed warming spells to his freezing skin, gently weaving healing into the terrible gashes on his leg as well. The warming spell took but the healing did not. Newt had heard iron wounds couldn’t be healed with magic.

“The old fashioned way then,” Newt announced.

It took a bit of hard work to get the wolf to his borrow, his weight wasn’t some slight thing. Wolves were really heavy Newt found first hand. He could have used magic but he wanted to keep it for warming and healing. Once he depleted himself, it could take time for his body to restore it. If the wolf caught a fever, Newt would need it to help him live through the night. So he relied on his own slight strength and the help of his creatures to get the heavy body onto a cart, pulled back, into the house, and finally into his guest bed. Newt was a panting mess by the end, but the wolf was safe and that was what was important. 

Newt didn’t usually medical attend others so he fought a blush, averting his gaze as he stripped the wolf out of his wet clothing and then settled him under dry warm blankets. He was rather broad, a predator’s build meant for power. Newt had always secretly thought predators had a charming look about them. Lean but powerful looking, always seeming ready for any sort of physical challenge. Rabbits were meant for speed more than anything.

Once that embarrassing bit was done, he carefully cleaned the leg and stitched the open gashes closed. He kept pouring drops of a slug slime known for numbing and the unconscious fellow didn’t seem to feel the pain of his work.

It was late into the night when Newt was cleaning the blood from his hands, peering at the poor wolf fast asleep in the bed.

“We can only wait now, it’s hard to know how sick the iron has made him,” Newt mused softly. Dougal listening to him and peering at their visitor curiously. Most of the creatures were in the room, inspecting their new housemate.

He was rather handsome looking, Newt mused. Dark hair and a solemn sort of face, a predator's strong features. His body was built for fighting and he wore fetching scars. He had a pair of dark wolf ears as well, much shorter than Newt's own long ones. He'd noticed a tail earlier as well, a long dark thing that seemed enormous compared to the small duster Newt himself had. Really, wolves were such interesting creatures.

“Either way, we must give everyone a late dinner and then off to bed.”

Newt checked on the wolf after dinner and before he headed to sleep, peering into the room with a soft candle burning lowly. The wolf’s chest rising and falling in slow steady movements, a good sign. Newt paused a moment to study him, helpless curious about him. An older wolf with bits of grey in his dark hair but still very handsome looking. Newt supposed he really did have a bit of a liking for predators. They weren’t common in the village, most places being primarily prey or predator beings. So Newt had never gone with one, he’d never gone with anyone but other buck rabbits. But looking at the sleeping wolf he realized he might want to try something different one day.

Blinking and realizing he was staring and being lewd, Newt shook his head to clear the thoughts. It must be the spring fever, the universal urge to mate pulling at him. 

Newt crawled into his own bed and Dougal was settling at his side, the occamy at his feet, a murtlap and a few others all scrambling onto the bed until Newt was trapped in the center, content with his warm prison.

The wolf slept into the next evening, but then Dougal came to fetch Newt from the kitchen with an urgency that had him rushing after the demiguise.

Newt was just walking in the room when the wolf opened his eyes, looking around with clear confusion.

“H-hello. I found you in the woods and brought you home. You were caught in an iron trap,” Newt offered, voice soft and soothing as he explained what had happened. The wolf blinked at him for a bleary moment and then sleep pulled him under once more. 

“It is a good sign,” Newt assured Dougal and the demiguise stayed to watch their patient as Newt went back to dinner.

When he checked on the wolf again, he was awake, more alert now, peering around.

“You wouldn’t happen to recall everything I explained an hour ago would you?”

The wolf just stared suspiciously.

Newt smiled awkwardly and retold his story, carefully approaching the stranger and checking him over for any signs of fever or dangerous illness. Gently he lifted the blanket and the wolf let him, watching as Newt checked the bandage.

“How do you feel?”

“Thirsty,” a low grumble rasped and Newt nodded.

“Perfect, that’s a very good sign.”

Newt brought a pitcher of water and a cup, refilling twice before leaving it beside the table. He fetched a bowl of the soup he had made for the wolf.

“It’ll help a great deal to eat something, you’ll need to get your strength back on your own rather than with magic.”

The wolf frowned, flexing his foot and glaring at it.

“Oh, wait a moment,” Newt fetched some pain potion and returned. “This is mixed with plain herbs rather than magical so it should work on the iron wound,” he explained as he poured a bit into some water and offered it out.

The wolf frowned at the cup, looking at Newt’s face and then the cup. After a very long moment, he reached out a hand and took it, sniffing the mix and wincing before drinking it down.

“Magic won’t be able to heal iron but time will, it’s not too deep, a few weeks and you should be back to normal, I don’t think the iron was deep enough to linger permanently.”

“Are you a healer?” The wolf asked bluntly, looking Newt up and down. It made him nervous, not because he was a wolf but more because anyone staring at him made Newt edgy. He could feel his long rabbit ears twitching as the predator stared.

“I’m not, I work with magical creatures though and I’ve tended to their injuries over the years.”

“Creatures.”

“I could head into the village and see if the healer would come out or we could wait a few days to make sure you don’t begin a fever and then I could take you there myself.” Newt had planned on that actually and the wolf didn’t protest, laying back into his pillow.

Leaving him to rest, Newt leaned on the closed door and let out a long sigh. That was far more talking than he was used to. Usually Theseus or his parents filled up the silence but this wolf seemed the quiet type. That and he was seriously injured.

Newt pushed back his discomfort and resigned himself to a few days of having a guest, it was a bit uncomfortable for him but he certainly wasn’t going to throw the stranger out.

Sitting down at his desk, Newt opened his notes on iron injuries, going through them to refresh his mind, Pickett settling on his shoulder. It was hours later when Newt looked up from reading, the faint creak of the floorboards making him turn towards the bedrooms. Sure enough, the wolf was up and wobbling down the hall.

Newt nearly dropped his papers, rushing to put them aside and hurrying to the wolf’s side. Without being shy about it, Newt took the larger fellow’s weight on his bad side, lifting until the weight was off it. The wolf wasn’t some slight thing either, he was heavy.

“What are you doing! You need to stay off your foot, putting weight on it is going to cause damage,” Newt lectured, leading the wolf to the chair Dougal pushed towards them. Newt wrestled him down, not giving him a choice as he sat with a thump and frowned up at Newt. A wolf might intimate a lesser rabbit but Newt dealt with magical creatures far more dangerous, the runespoor hiding under Newt’s bed had more venom to him.

“I need a bathroom.”

“Oh. Well, you should have called. We really must be careful, you’ll heal up fine but it won’t take much to do lasting damage right now.”

Newt spelled the chair under the wolf to be light and easy to move. He dragged the chair and wolf down the hall to the bathroom, the wolf gripping the chair and staring at Newt incredulously.

“My methods might not be graceful but they work,” he defended lightly, avoiding the gaze of the wolf. Newt helped him and made the surly wolf sit down rather than trying to stand to urinate. After that Newt left him be but didn’t call the unseen Dougal with him, letting the demiguise keep an eye on their patient. They had mothered countless creatures back to health, this wolf would be no different.

Newt fetched the stew bowl from the bedroom and refilled it, setting it on the nightstand before he refilled the water as well.

Dougal called him shortly after and Newt helped the wolf back to bed, carefully lifting his leg up as he settled against the headboard. The wolf seemed perplexed with Newt and he used that to work, simply doing what was needed rather than asking permission he would likely be denied. It worked with magical creatures and it seemed to be working on wolves as well. He was watching Newt, his ears sitting high on his head alertly but he didn’t protest as Newt got him settled back in the bed.

“Try to sleep some more, rest and food are best,” Newt offered, reaching to tap a vial he put on the nightstand. “This will help you sleep if it aches too much, just a few drops.”

Excusing himself again, Newt huffed and went to put the food away for the night, shooing a pair of greedy occamy from the stew pot.

Newt checked the wolf before bed and found him sleeping thankfully, his stern features relaxed in slumber again. Without his frown, the wolf looked rather much softer. It was a bit strange to see his pointed ears up on his head, Newt feeling his own long pair twitch. They hung down and rested on his shoulders lightly. 

Heading to bed he wondered how it felt to sleep with a long tail. Did they tuck it to the side if they were on their backs? Newt’s own tail was a small fluffy thing, hardly any trouble and it pressed down flat easily enough.

“A curious thought certainly,” he yawned to Dougal before lying down again.

 

It was a bit hard at times, to contend with the stubborn wolf who wanted to be up too soon. Or for some ridiculous reason he thought he should stop taking potions for pain before the pain was actually gone. Newt was never a forward or bold creature but he was very firm with injured animals. They often did not understand the damage they could do if not resting probably and that touch of authority he used on them transferred over to his wolf.

Thankfully, once he was awake and not in great pain, the wolf did open up a bit, slowly seeming to realize Newt truly did not mean harm or expect anything from him.

Percival was his name, a somber but polite fellow.

In the daylight, the streaks of grey showed more in his dark hair. Most wolves died young Newt had heard before, often doing some wild or glorious thing like taking on a foe much stronger or dying saving a village. As a rabbit Newt had never been interested in fighting, he wasn’t a predator born to battle like a wolf. But he could admire such strength and dedication. It was also a reflection of intellect that Percival had lived a long life, managing to escape dangerous situations and over come his enemies.

“Those days are long done,” Percival told him when Newt mentioned it, curious to hear an actual wolf’s thoughts on it. “I mostly work in an office, signing papers and listening to self-important people talk in circles. I can pick up on lingering magic though, I specialize in tracking. That was why I was in this area, trying to follow rumors of a dark one.”

They spent their evenings in the living room, settled before the fire. A compromise, Percival got to leave his bed but he was also sitting down on the couch, not hobbling around. As it turned out, the wolf had a talent for drawing and Newt put it to use, having the wolf draw all his various animals so he could put together his creature guide.

It served a dual purpose, it kept Percival busy and let his mind focus on something, putting him in a much better mood. Secondly it was something the wolf could consider a payment of sorts, he had been insisting he would repay Newt for his help since he woke. This let him do that in a way Newt would accept, taking a purse of coins felt wrong to him, a reward for basic decency.

“Do you miss running around dangerously then? You don’t sound found of the office and officials. Was it nice to head out?”

Percival frowned at his paper, looking at the niffler intently before looking back to his drawing. The little beast almost seemed to be posing, making sure his best treasure was on display. “I do these side assignments to keep from going mad mostly. It’s not a choice, I’d hinder more than help in a real hunt. My magic is powerful still but my body is fading, growing old and soft.”

Newt huffed in disbelief before he could stop himself, coloring when Percival blinked at him. 

“H-hush. I’m certain you are perfectly aware, ‘old and soft’ is not how o-one would describe your l-looks.” Newt hastily defended and Percival’s mouth twitched in a tiny smile. It made Newt flush harder and focus on his notes, trying to collect them into simple and clear passages for others to read.

Newt had the feeling they were both being pulled a bit but the spring fever, the urge to mate and breed. Percival had stayed for six days now, Newt should have taken him to the village but instead they remained in their little isolation together. It surprised him that the wolf didn’t intrude on Newt’s burrow. He seemed respectful and for the most part, simply curious of Newt and his creatures. When he marveled at the colors of the occamy chicks Newt could admit he was a bit charmed. Anyone who saw magical creatures as more than mere dangerous beasts was someone Newt liked.

A rather dramatic rumble of thunder made them both pause, the occamy crooning worriedly, gathered in their compact nest.

“Hush now, it’s just a spring storm, nothing to worry about,” Newt soothed them, letting the trio come and curl up on his lap for comfort. They were good about not growing too large in the borrow and Newt’s touch comforted them enough he didn’t worry they would.

“It should let up tonight I think,” he added, peering over to Percival. “I’ll head into the village in the morning and restock on what I need. Would you like to write a letter for me to send off perhaps?”

Percival paused in his work and frowned again, a thoughtful look on his face. “I should come, try to find a passage back to the city. There was rumors of a dark one in these woods, but I’ve found nothing. There’s no reason to stay.”

The last part was a touch hesitant and Newt could feel himself fluster a bit, looking at his notes without actually seeing them.

“True but waiting might be wiser, everything will be a mess with this rain so most caravans will be waiting anyway. You really do need to keep off your leg a bit longer, Iron poisoning is dangerous. I had thought to ask the healer in the village about it.” Newt glanced over and found Percival watching him, sharp eyes seeming to see through him a bit too much for his comfort. His dark wolf ears were poised high on his head, Newt learned this was a sign that he was keen on something.

“If you think, I’m in no real rush to return, the city will be a mess itself, with the spring fever.”

“Oh? I’ve always been a bit curious about how it goes in such a large place.”

Percival scoffed softly, looking back to his drawing. “It’s all a great game of courting and secret meetings, proper matches and duels to win favor.”

“…That sounds dreadful.”

“It is, but it can’t be that much different in the smaller areas.”

Newt tipped his head considering. “A bit certainly, it’s rare for duels to occur and there are no games of any sort that I know of. But lots of courting does happen. If you feel the pull to someone you answer it, see if you fit right and want the same things for your future. If everything goes smoothly you marry. If you only want something passing you mate and move on.”

“That easy,” the older wolf chuckled, clearly not believing Newt.

“I suppose there is a bit of yelling when someone chooses someone unexpectedly, a fox and a mouse going together or the same sex matching gets attention.”

“Merely attention?” Something in his tone caught Newt’s attention.

“Well yes, it’s a bit different, not mating the norm, but it happens enough that people will just talk for a few days. Is it more important in the city?”

“Vastly. Bloodlines are important to most, an obsession really. Carrying on the line means everything, mating matches are often for strong children rather than love.”

“Oh, that’s a bit depressing,” Newt contemplated and Percival nodded, scowling fiercely at his drawing now. Clearly he had his own thoughts on the matter but Newt didn’t want to press him.

“Love matches are more important out here, there a superstition that a match not made in affection means few little ones.”

“Not a bad way to think about it,” Percival agreed and Newt nodded lightly.

“I would like to marry for love, although with rabbits it’s not unusual to be together because of little ones before love and marriage comes along. It is important to be careful about that sort of thing but the young ones get caught up sometimes and suddenly they have their own babies to mind. But it’s not rare for parents to share child raising and for new mates to come along.”

“Not looking to knock up some pretty rabbit lass?”

Newt chuckled then.

“No, not looking to be knocked up myself. Lasses don’t hold much appeal for me I’m afraid.”

Newt settled the occamy back in their nests, the little chicks sleeping now and snuggling into balls for warmth. When he looked back, Percival was staring at him, a touch perplexed.

“Knocked up yourself? My apologies, I hadn’t realized you were…” He hesitated, looking truly mortified. “A female.”

Newt swallowed a laugh and shook his head, a bit embarrassed but mostly amused.

“I’m not. I suppose rabbits are not common in the city, Theseus had mentioned it was hard to find them when he visited there. We do like space to grow. We can breed either gender, a male can impregnate a female or a male, we can be bred or breed.”

Percival stared some more.

“Surely you’ve heard? People do like to talk about it I’ve been told.” Newt could feel embarrassment settling over him as Percival blinked and looked down at his drawing again.

“I had. I just never believed it. How is such a thing possible?”

“Magic mostly, Eostre blessed her children with uh…fertility, as the story goes.”

“Luna blessed her children with the hunt,” Percival echoed the wolves goddess myth. “I can’t say that fertility would be a terrible thing to be blessed with. The hunt loses its charm after a few decades. I imagine a family doesn’t.”

Newt hummed thoughtfully, not sure what to say to that.

“You’ve no family waiting?”

Percival frowned fiercely and then shook his head in negative. Sensing he touched a sore subject, Newt turned his attention back to his work and left the wolf be.

 

Come morning, Percival offered up a letter for him to take to the village.

“It’ll let those who need to know where I am,” he said simply and made no mention of coming along or leaving. So Newt headed out in the morning light, chasing the fog as it faded and mindful of the swelled rivers and slippery mud banks.

 

“A wolf?” The older healer, a widower badger, raised a brow at Newt, who nodded. “On a hunt and got caught in an iron trap, nasty things. I was wondering if you had any advice on treating the wound. It is healing well though.”

The woman eyed Newt for a long moment and he resisted the urge to shift his weight from foot to foot, the want to run itching at him. Newt never liked the village, too many strangers crammed together; the idea of a city was daunting. Marvelous in that the magic folk could build such a thing, but still upsetting to think of so many people all in one place. Humans liked that sort of thing, building on top of each other. The magic beings avoided them though, they were a vicious sort after all.

A glass bottle clinked on the wood counter, a fine ground herb inside it.

“A spoon of this with some oak bark tea once a day will help flush the iron out faster and allow the magic to return quicker.”

Newt picked it up and peered at the contents curiously. Healers would keep the name of the plant to themselves though, not wanting to lose the business if everyone knew what to use and how.

“Thank you, anything else I should be aware of?” he questioned as he paid for the bottle with his own plants, the kind that few would venture deep enough into the forest to go looking for.

The older woman squinted at Newt for a moment.

“Don’t let him knot you too often.”

“I…w-what. Oh no, w-were not,” Newt stuttered to explain but the woman waved him off.

Red faced and a touch humiliated, Newt kept his head down and quickly picked up what he needed. Fresh parchment and a few rarer herbs, some spices for meat and few chickens for the occamy and Percival.

All the way home, Newt’s face burned as he tried to figure out why the healer had thought such a thing. Newt hadn’t spoken oddly had he? Perhaps it was just the season, the spring fever hanging overhead.

When he arrived home, Newt felt his entire being flush red at the heavy scent lingering in the air. Percival’s door was left open a touch, the wolf sleeping calmly but Newt could scent what he had done.

Wandering after the fading smell led Newt to the bathroom, a wood stool settled in the tub so Percival could shower. There were water droplets clinging to everything and a dampness of a recent shower. Newt felt a huff of annoyance, if Percival had fallen or any sort of thing he would have been alone. But he did recognize he was mothering a bit, the wolf was healed up well enough to get around on his own.

The scent of semen lingered, distracting Newt, making his nose twitch and his cock stir. It was clear Percival had touched himself while bathing and Newt tried not to picture it. The spring fever was certainly pulling at him now, trying to coax him to mate with the wolf.

Newt had never mated properly, he had spent time with other males but never allowed them to ride him. It was too likely he would catch with kits so Newt went without, happy to ride wood carvings and his fingers. Now though, he wondered what a wolf would be like. Percival was a good head taller than Newt and much more muscle than his own wiry body. Would the wolf have to be careful with Newt, making his touch gentle. Or would he be rough and commanding, making Newt take it?

“I should sit,” he muttered to no one, trailing back into the main rooms and pouring himself some calming tea. Sipping it as he put everything from the village away, Newt glanced at Percival’s room and felt himself blush.

He was acting like a young one, fresh into his first spring fever where he was finally old enough to mate. Shaking his head at his own silliness, Newt took up a shovel and went to toil away on his borrow. Some old fashioned labor would be the best to work out the mating urges.

Dougal helped Newt work, digging and piling the loose dirt to be moved tomorrow. Newt bent and worked the pick ax at stubborn stones, forcing them loose and pulling them out with a soft grunt.

It took him a moment to place the strange prickle up his spine but when he turned and looked he found Percival at the entryway, staring at Newt. He straightened up and turned to face him properly.

“Oh, hello. Am I being too loud?”

Percival blinked and shook his head, seeming a touch dazed as Newt wiped sweat from his brow and panted a bit. Physical labor always left him a bit wrung out but it was a good feeling.

“May I help you?” Percival asked bluntly and Newt blinked, not sure how to explain that digging out a burrow was a private sort of thing. Not knowing how and honestly not minding, he eventually just nodded his head.

“Be careful about your leg please,” he reminded, but the wolf was healing amazingly, much fast than a rabbit would have. Their different bodies became very clear when Percival took up a shovel, working far faster and with more ease than Newt ever had. Together the powered through a large part of the work, creating a sizeable space that would be a room soon enough.

“There’s no danger of a collapse?” Percival asked as he peered at the dirt roof.

“None at all, rabbits are very good architects. Plus magic is holding everything that needs to be held, until I can place support beams in.”

Percival looked a touched surprised at the news, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“It’s not hard to use that much magic?”

Newt shook his head. “Rabbits are used to it, our burrows are rather important to us, we use so much magic to create them and then also our hands as well. A balance of the two, a reflection of our selves in a way.”

“Sounds a bit like a den.”

“Oh, wolves den don’t they?” Newt smiled, thinking it was a good comparison.

“Females do, when their carrying pups,” Percival replied, following Newt as he left the area to go wash up. They could work more tomorrow maybe, if Percival was feeling up for it.

“Burrows are a bit the same, females typically dig them out, creating a home, though males do as well sometimes.”

Percival hummed in acknowledgment, watching Newt as he pushed up his sleeves and washed his hands down, splashing the water on his face to rub away the sweat.   

In the bathroom, the faint scent of Percival lingered, Newt suddenly reminded of why he had distracted himself in the first place. Only now Percival was right behind him, watching him intently in the mirror. Newt watched the wolf eye him up and down, meeting his gaze in the reflection without shame.

“Spring f-fever?” Newt managed to ask and Percival nodded.

“I’m usually better at controlling it. I’ve never felt a pull towards rabbits or other species before, but I can’t seem to get you out of my head.”

“Y-you are in my burrow, surrounded by my scent,” Newt pointed out weakly, rubbing his face in a towel and feeling his cheeks heat up.

Percival watched him again, looking at Newt in the mirror as he moved closer, his chest coming to rest against Newt’s back. He was radiating heat and it felt good, delightful really.

“I think you feel the pull too, beyond the fever alone? Would you spend your fever with me?” Percival asked, voice husky and low in a way that just got to Newt, making him flush harder and stiffen in his trousers. Biting his lip and twisting the towel in his hands, Newt finally nodded his head.

“I-I would l-like that.”

 

Newt led the wolf to the spare bedroom. His own will be filled with beasts already sleeping for the evening.

Percival followed him, eyes dark and Newt smiled shyly.

“Rabbits often suck one another, a way to enjoy the fever without any little ones.” Newt explained as he sat on the edge of the bed and left Percival to stand before him.

“I’ve done it quite a bit, do wolves suck each other?”

He shook his head, eyes locked on Newt’s mouth.

“Rarely,” he rasped and Newt smiled softly, a tad nervous, but pleased he could offer something not normally given.

Newt wasn’t ready for the wolf to be…quiet as much as he was. Certainly bigger than the typical rabbit. The length was blood red and thick, a bulbous bump at the base.

Newt could feel himself getting wet between the thighs at the idea of riding this monster.

Inching forward, he took hold of the base and ran his tongue up the length, earning a groan from the wolf. A bit more confident, Newt swirled his tongue over the tip and eased it into his mouth. The sheer size made his mouth strain to take it.

Slurping on it, Newt pulled back and covered it in kisses, licking more before trying again, sliding it deeper now as he began to bob his head.

“Sweet Luna,” Percival muttered, gripping the footboard in a tight hold as Newt worked and sucked him off.

Pulling off with a wet slurp he glanced up at the wolf.

“Do you want in me?” He offered suddenly, feeling nervous but certain he wanted Percival to be his first proper mate. The idea of the wolf having him was making his thighs soaked, his body delighted with the idea of this predator. 

“Very much,” Percival replied instantly. 

Muttering the spell all rabbit bucks who liked males knew, Newt cleaned his body in preparation for a mating.

He crawled up on the bed, pulling at his shirt and trousers, stripping as the wolf followed suit while staring at him. The fever made him eager, more forward them he would usually be was Newt’s excuse as he glanced at the wolf, biting his lip.

He laid his shirt aside and his pants as well, pulling his underclothes off as well, flushing as he settled on the bed nude. Sitting up he pressed his knees together in a touch of shyness.

Newt watched as Percival stripped without hesitation, revealing a fit body with faded scars. Newt felt a bit self-conscious of his own marks but Percival didn’t seem to notice them. With his own body marked as it was, it put Newt at ease a bit.

The wolf knelt on the bed, carefully minding his bad leg as he came closer to Newt, lingering just before touching him.

“Have… have you mated before?”

Newt wondered what gave it away, squirming on the bed in humiliation as he shook his head in negative.

Percival’s hand took his chin gently, tipping his head up to meet his gaze. The wolf didn’t seem bothered with Newt’s virginity.

“It’s an honor then, to have you, to spend this spring fever with you,” he announced a touch formally and Newt’s poor heart pounded with more than lust.

Percival leaned in slowly, so Newt understood what he was doing. With care he kissed him, his warm mouth on Newt’s own, pressing and tasting.

They kissed for a long time, mouths touching over and over, Percival’s tongue slipping passed his lips. When they broke the contact the wolf kissed the corner of Newt’s mouth. Moving downward along his chin and jaw, he opened his mouth to lick at Newt’s bare neck. The heat of his tongue along his skin, along his delicate throat made Newt’s hands grips the sheets as he moaned softly.

Here was a predator, a large male that could pin him, tasting his body, teeth rasping against one of his weakest points. He could feel the long pointed tips of Percival’s canines.

Newt was certain now he was rather taken with the idea of a hunter.

Perhaps he had a fetish.

Percival’s hands were calloused and sure, running down Newt’s thighs and gently easing them open.

Trembling a touch, Newt spread his legs and let the wolf settle in closer.

“We need something to ease the way,” Percival muttered, looking around the room.

“It’s ok, I’m a rabbit, we can slick.”

“Slick?”

Newt took Percival’s hand and led it between his thighs, showing him how wet he was already.

“Oh, luna, you’re… soaked,” he breathed with a touch of something like awe, fingers softly pressing and then sinking into Newt’s body. He hummed softly and wiggling back on the feeling. Newt could feel the pull of the spring fever, he wanted Percival to fuck him, the fill him up. He wanted seed to run down his thighs because he was so crammed full. 

Percival pulled his fingers free and rubbed Newt’s slick over his own cock, getting it shiny wet before lining up.

“Do you need more preparation?”

Newt shook his head quickly, spreading his legs wider in invitation.

“I’m meant to mate with males,” he reminded the wolf and something about that statement seemed to excite Percival even more.

Newt went boneless in the bed, leaning back against the pillows.  He’d ridden enough toys to know the best way to take such a massive thing.

It still burned, but Percival was patient, easing in gently and not trying to slam the entire thing in at once.

Newt sort of wished he would but he knew it was the fever talking. The wolf was rather large and Newt’s poor hole strained to handle it.

Panting a bit for real no reason, Newt whined as Percival eased a bit more in, feeding it into him.

It felt like it would never fit until the wolf was finally in all the way, face pulled tight with concentration. Straining to keep still perhaps, Newt wondered.

“I feel full,” he breathed, the words inadequate really. Newt felt more open than he had even been in his life. None of his toys were so thick and Newt liked the sting of it, like the feeling of being stretched so wide. Percival was going to ruin him for other rabbit cocks.

But Newt supposed he was going to be wanting predators from now on.

“You feel amazing,” the wolf over him choked back, looking like he was struggling to hold back. The idea that the predator was being gentle was sweet. But he wanted to know if Percival was going to be rough, if he would bite at Newt maybe.

Heavens, Newt really was perverted.

“You can move now,” Newt coaxed, he hooked his legs over the wolf’s waist and softly urged him forward.

They started tender, but it quickly turned forceful. Percival fucked rather hard and Newt very much liked it. He braced himself against the headboard, thighs spread wide as they pounded away.

“Harder, please,” Newt whimpered, feeling the burn and friction inside him and whining. He rode his toys rough and now he tried to ride Percival just as wildly, slamming himself back.

“Fuck,” the wolf growled, sending a shiver up Newt’s spine. “Look at you, you like it harsh don’t you?”

In the lust of the spring fever Newt nodded eagerly.

“I can never ride my toys fast enough, I spell them so they fuck me, so they pound me until I’m sore,” he confessed shamelessly.

Percival groaned at the confession, taking Newt’s thighs in his hands and ramming in sudden powerful lunges that made Newt cry out in delight. 

“I’d thought I’d have to be gentle,” he grunted.

“Please don’t. I want you to use me, I’ve always wondered about a predator having me,” Newt babbled, a part of him mortified but Percival was fucking him so perfectly aggressively and he couldn’t think straight under the pleasure of it.

Wolves were very dominant it turned out.

Newt’s fingers scratched the headboard as he struggled to hang on. Laid out on his back under the wolf. Despite the position, Percival was powerful and he used his strength to ride Newt so gloriously hard, pounding him down on his massive cock. Newt would feel it for days.

He loved the idea of that.

When the wolf leaned down over him to kiss his neck, an open-mouthed sloppy thing that turned into a lick Newt shivered.

“You like the idea of a predator little bunny?” Percival growled in a deep rumble and his teeth grazed Newt’s neck.

With a sudden sob, Newt came hard, hips pumping frantically as Percival kept mouthing at his skin, sucking marks along his neck.

“I’m going to knot,” he hissed and Newt blinked confused as the wolf snarled, his powerful hips shoving wildly into Newt’s slack body now.

Newt could feel it though, the cock inside him growing impossibly bigger. Percival tried to pull back and his cock didn’t come back.

“Oh,” Newt breathed with a touch of pain that felt terribly pleasurable. He recalled something distantly about wolves tying during sex. Percival’s knot at the base of his cock was expanding inside Newt. He’d seen it when he sucked him and hadn’t realized then.

“Are you ok?” It sounded like Percival struggled to get the words out, he was grinding into Newt now. His cock twitching and pulsing so hard Newt could feel it inside him.

“It feels good,” he mumbled, feeling a bit dazed at the warm full feeling. The spring fever loved the idea of a knot, of Percival pumping him so full. Newt had heard wolves came a great deal.

Percival grunted, seeming overcome himself as he licked at Newt’s neck idly, sucking at his skin lazily.

They stayed tied for a time Newt couldn’t trace, everything seeming too hazy as Percival licked at his skin and Newt just floated in the aftermath. The knot felt delightful inside him, throbbing warmly and he liked it, liked the stretch and burn. Percival seemed lost as well, eyes unfocused as he panted a bit and growled every now and then, shuddering when a powerful pulse ran through him and into Newt.

When Percival rocked back gently, checking. He shifted inside Newt and when he pulled carefully, his cock came free with a wet sopping sound. Newt feeling his hole wide open and refusing to close.

Percival’s’ fingers touched him, running along his stretched rim and easing two inside easily. Newt felt like an utter mess and he rather liked it.

“Are you ok? No pain?” The wolf sounded more like himself now, less lusty and growly.

Newt shook his head, feeling worn out in the best way, he ached a touch but nothing alarming.

“We must do that again,” he said with a bit of a dreamy sigh and Percival huffed a low laughed, chuckling with a slow shameless grin as he nodded.

 

They spend a full week having sex, Newt was fucked over every surface of his home, his beasts a bit scandalized as their mum took a knot eagerly. But it was merely nature and so they learned to stay out of the way when the mating scents started up. Newt finding himself rather loud when Percival was fucking his arse.

“I don’t think I’ll ever like sex without knotting now, it feels so nice,” he mussed, squeezing down on the full thing inside him and Percival grunted in answer, hands clutching Newt’s waist.

They’re on the couch, Newt sitting in his lap facing him, knotted tightly.

“I do love the full sensation and that you pour so much seed within me. We’re lucky that cross-breeding required potions, or I’d have a whole pack inside me.” He chuckled and Percival hummed in reply, running his hands over Newt’s flat stomach.

“You’d look good with my cubs,” Percival still seemed a bit thrown by the idea of Newt pregnant, but he was also warming up to it. His eyes taking on a strange but positive light as he peered at Newt’s stomach.

“I’d adore carrying them for you,” Newt agreed easily; leaning in to kiss the wolf lazily, tongue swiping as they made out like young things. Percival’s long fingers played with Newt’s rabbit ears, he rather liked fondling them or Newt’s tail, fingers tugging lightly as they kissed hungrily.

 

“Bloodlines are everything, my father was always angry that I prefer males, that I wouldn’t just marry some female and breed her at least.” Percival sounded tired as it said it, like it was an age-old argument.

They were laid out together on Newt’s bed, the afternoon sun hitting them just right. Creatures were curled up with them but to Newt’s delight, Percival didn’t mind them. He pet an occamy idly as it rested on his chest, the beasts taking to the wolf so wonderfully. He did throw a lot of heat, which was likely a prime reason.  

“I can’t say I understand rightly, rabbits have never minded as we can breed either way. Even two females will carry eventually, the magic is strong enough. But I suppose I understand the push to mate, to pick someone. My parents and brother are always trying to lure me too busy places, hoping I’ll find the right one and immediately breed.”

Percival chuckled, a low warm sound, his fingers reaching out to drag on Newt’s shoulder affectionately. The wolf was laid out on his back with Newt on his side, tucked into his broad shoulder. 

“You’d look good pregnant to be fair, you’d be a brilliant parent as well, you manage your creatures wonderfully.”

Newt felt his face burn with embarrassment but pleasure swirled in his stomach as well.

 

It was hard to say how long Percival would have stayed if they had been left alone.

But one sunny morning while they were gathering water from the river, a young female wolf found them.

Newt had been distracted, something in the forest putting him off. It felt to still, like a predator was near by. Of course, Newt felt silly to realize the predator was standing beside him.

But then a twig snapped and leaves rustled as a wolf came upon them.

“Sir!” She cried in relief at the sight of them. At the sight of Percival.

It was a bit like putting a mask on, Newt could see the ease in Percival melt away and he stood taller. His ears perked up alert and his face turned from something open to a neutral look.

“Tina,” he greeted formally.

 

His letter had reached the city and they had sent someone to help escort Percival back, his duties waiting for him. As it turned out, Percival was someone important in the city, holding a high and powerful job, a guardian of the people. Newt didn’t understand completely but he did understand that Percival was leaving.

Tina slept on his couch and Percival slept back in the guest room again. It was clear he wanted to seem like nothing had happened so Newt followed along. He pushed the hurt away and thought perhaps it was embarrassing to be seen with a prey being. Newt packed them bread and dried meat for their trip as well, wanting to see them off safely.

Feeling a bit restless in the night, Newt ended up in his new room, carefully smoothing the walls out, using clay to begin to form them.

His creatures watched him work, sensing his mood.

“Nothing for it but time I’m afraid,” he told them softly. Newt had known the wolf would leave but he hadn’t expected the heartbreak that came along with it.

Percival came looking for him in the midnight hours, ducking into the room as Newt looked up, clay drying on his skin.

“Am I being too loud?” He asked gently.

The wolf shook his head, padding over to peer at Newt’s work, idly running a hand down the smooth wall.

“I…I had planned to stay longer, I’ve been finding every excuse I could to linger.” Percival admitted to him and Newt felt a shy smile pull at his lip. Glad that he hadn’t been the only one to feel that way.

“I’m sorry if I was rude early, keeping distant from you,” the wolf reaching out to cup Newt’s cheek and rubbed his thumb soothingly over Newt’s skin.

“Tina is the good sort but she gossips. I don’t want someone coming out here looking for you, wanting to harm you to hurt me.”

Newt blinked. “Would that happen?” He really should get some aggressive vines, there were plenty of plants that would guard the burrow, most forest rabbits did have them.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to chance it. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if you were injured because of me.”

“Oh,” Newt blinked again, feeling a bit touched by the wolf’s worry.

“I’m not sure if you realize this,” he began, leaning in a bit. “But rabbits are prey creatures, we do know how to mind ourselves,” he managed to tease lightly. His stomach flipped when it had the effect he wanted, Percival looking a touch caught off guard but then chuckling warmly.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, you bed down with deadly beasts all the time,” he replied and his smile was genuine again.

“…Newt…” the wolf seemed to hesitate, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I’m… rather older than you and a wolf rather than your own…”

Newt leaned forward without realizing it, intent on hearing the words.

“But would it be acceptable if I wrote you?”

Newt felt like his smile would split his face.

“Of course,” he whispered quickly, feeling a touch giddy. “I’d like that very much.”

Writing indicated a future, it indicated more than just a spring fever mating.

 

Newt accompanied them to the village in the morning light, guiding them safely. The forest had a reputation for getting folk lost and Newt was mildly worried about iron traps. The village was a buzz with talk, people curious about the outsiders. They had known about Percival via gossip but this was his first visit to the village itself.

“Go and collect what we’ll need to travel back?” Percival directed Tina who nodded and went to the main market square.

“What are you after?” He asked Newt, eyes a touch softer when they were alone.

“Just a tonic, one of the Ocammy has mites so I need to get rid of it straight away.”

Percival followed Newt, looking at the healer’s wares with a forced interest. It was clear he didn’t want to part just yet and Newt returned the urge. Both of them wanting to stay as close as they could for as long as possible.

The old badger frowned at them, but produced a good-sized bottle of the tonic Newt needed, accepting fresh herbs from the riverside in payment.

She eyed Newt and then Percival, seeming to know, as if it was obvious they had relations. After a moment she turned to her wall of bottles and pulled a loose-leaf mix, setting with Newt’s tonic.

“You should start right away, make it easier.”

“Make….what?” Newt felt a bit silly as Percival turned towards them, obviously listening.

“Did you let him knot you?”

Percival knocked something over and Newt’s face burned a bright humiliating red. The old badged nodded, satisfied.

“Come fall you’ll be having little ones then.”

The room seemed to fall silent in an inexplicable sort of way. Somehow everything went utterly still, not even a breath gusting in the air. Newt stared at the badger and she looked back, utterly blank.

“Oh no, we-re n-not, we d’idn’t.” Newt’s tongue tried valiantly to untie itself.

“We didn’t try for… little ones, no potions or a-anything.”

Now the healer looked almost exasperated, sighing heavily.

“Boy, you’re a rabbit. You don’t need potions. Eostre’s blessing being what it is.”

Newt felt his mouth agape a touch.

“We…I w-was told…potions?”

The healer shook her head. “Every breed does need them to mix, save one. The breed blessed with fertility.”

“…Oh,” he whispered, the room feeling a bit too hot. His knees felt unsteady and his vision wavered a touch. 

“You gonn’a faint?” The healer asked sharply and suddenly strong arms curled around him, helping Newt to a near by stool.

Percival was staring at him as he helped him sit and Newt stared back up at him.

“I had no idea.” He confessed and the wolf nodded, clearly believing him even as he looked shocked himself.

“Perhaps you didn’t take?” He asked weakly.

The healer snorted at her counter. “Rabbits don’t ‘not take’,” she said as she sorted her potions, adding a few more to the pile of Newts. “Eat more red meat, you’ll carry kits and cubs. If you knotted a great deal, you might end up with double digits.”

Newt made a tiny strangled sound. Gripping his knees tightly as he bent over the stool.

“Oh dear, oh dear. T-the burrow’s not dug out enough yet, the new rooms not e-even done,” he gasped, staring at Percival in despair. “I need to expand the g-garden for kits, I need to start gathering food. I need cloth, blankets, and clothing. I need to c-create cabinets with l-locks for the d-dangerous po-potions,” Newt babbled, voice growing more higher until Percival gripped his arms and pulled his head down between his legs.

“Deep breaths,” he coaxed, rubbing Newt’s back soothingly. “Nice and easy.”

Newt managed to get himself under control, still feeling breathless and mildly panicked.

“Kits,” he mumbled. “I had thought about them r-recently but…this fall. Eostre be kind. I’ll be a mother in a handful of months.”

Newt blinked at Percival.

“What do cubs need when they’re first born? Do they drink milk? When do they go on solids?”

“A month or so in and your own milk will do. But it’s wise to get a milk goat for male carriers.” the healer answered with an almost bored tone, still organizing her potions like Newt breaking down was a normal thing. He blinked up at her and she eyed him, snorting with a hint of softness.

“Every spring I get a few of you, swearing you thought this or that would prevent it, always some rabbit knocked up. They’re usually younger though,” she commented and Percival seemed to bristle beside him. A protective arm around Newt’s trembling shoulders.

“She’s right,” Newt protested weakly. “How did I not know this?”

“Small village, years of avoiding the spring fever or going only with other rabbits,” she mused with a shrug. “It happens often enough. Be glad you have the father around to help rather than already long gone.”

Newt blinked again, more rapidly, tears burning a bit. He couldn’t ask such a thing of Percival. He was heading to the city, back to his life. Perhaps he could write Newt the details of cubs to help him though.

“Are you ready to head out, sir? We should make good time if we go now,” Tina greeted them, poking her head into the shop. Pausing at the obvious situation unfolding.

“Going where?” The healer snapped suspiciously and the female wolf looked taken aback. 

“The city?” she made the answer sound more like a nervous question as the old sour badger glared her down.

“That wolf isn’t going anywhere, not if he has a lick of sense or honor in his randy head.”

That description of her superior clearly threw Tina for a loop.

 

They ended up back at Newt’s burrow, Tina making tea, flitting about the kitchen not knowing what to do and trying not to listen to Newt and Percival talk in the bedroom. She kept banging things and making loud noises, as if silence charms didn’t exist.

“You should go back to the city,” Newt babbled.

“I’ll go if you want me to, I don’t want to impose on you,” Percival replied, just as flustered for once, pacing the small room as Newt sat on the bed, still feeling a bit surreal.

“I don’t want you to go but you should go. You were going to go,” the words as jumbled as his mind felt.

“I was going to because I have responsibilities.”

“Those are still waiting.”

“Yes but they’re paperwork and self important people who want me to agree with them, not truly important things,” the wolf threw up a hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Cubs are certainly more important than that. Far more, vastly more.”

Newt watched him pace, trying to get himself into some sense of order. Dougal pushed the door open, carrying the fruit bowl from the kitchen. Newt accepted an apple obediently, biting in and finding he was hungry. Eostre be kind, he thought, he’d have to eat more, feed himself up for his little ones.

“I…” Newt stared and paused, Percival turning to look at him. “If y-you want to s-stay than you can. I want you too.” He finally managed to get out. “But if you want to go, I won’t try and hold you here. I’d rather despise that.”

 

Percival stayed.

Tina left for the city still a bit wide-eyed and promising to return in a month with her sister. Apparently she worked with cubs and knew a great deal about wolf cub care.

 

Newt sort of wandered about, sipping herbal tea and staring at things. Occasionally he would stand and gather anything dangerous he could find. Settling it on a growing pile on the kitchen table.

Percival mostly trailed after him, offering to carry things.

Together they stared at the pile of various dangerous things. Two beasts sitting in the heap mildly confused.

“…That healer,” Percival hesitated.  “She said you might have…double digits?”

Newt blinked.

“Rabbits usually do. Eight to twelve. My poor mum had a hard pregnancy during a terrible famine. She only carried me and my brother to term and she lost the ability to have more little ones giving birth to us.” Newt wondered if that would carry on to him, if his pregnancy would be horrific with a belly full of poor babies lost before they were even born.

Percival looked pale as well, picking another apple and offering it to Newt. He accepted it, wanting to try and put on some weight suddenly.

“Wolves have less, three to six. Often less, I was born on my own. Bloodline purity means less healthy cubs.”

“I’m honestly not sure what it will be, I don’t know much about crossbreeding. I do know I’ll have both kits and cubs though. And that our blood lines are certainly not previously crossed or anything.”

Percival nodded, staring back at the pile of dangerous things before suddenly huffing and sitting straighter before pushing up from the table determinedly. Newt watched him go and return with his drawing book and a pencil.

“Alright,” the older wolf announced with a firm tone. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

Percival nodded, his ears pointed straight and alert in a charming way.

“We need to do something beyond sitting about helplessly. We need to research and reference and learn all we can. Figure out what we need. You mentioned the new room and your garden?”

Newt stared at his half eaten apple for a moment before nodding.

“Yes. We’ll need to add to the garden right away so we can plant and have things grown for the fall harvest. More of everything. I’ll need to make more traps as well, we’ll need meat. I’ve a little cold storage room around back but it needs to be made bigger as well if I’ll have cubs to feed. The new room needs to be vastly bigger, it’ll be a children’s room I suppose…” Newt bit his lip, looking around his burrow. “Honestly, it should all be dug a bit bigger. Every room can be increased. We’ll need a storage room with a good lock, for dangerous things, more furniture as well,” he added thoughtfully. “I’ll have to create a safe area for the more dangerous creatures as well. Somewhere little ones can’t wander into on accident.”

Percival calmly wrote each thing Newt said, creating a list that honestly did make Newt feel a touch less helpless.

“The healer said to visit each month,” Percival chimed in, eyeing the pile of potions Newt had been sent home with. The village healer was also the midwife, grumpy but very good at what she did.

“I’ll need to order in cloth and buy some sheep fleece.”

“Fleece?”

Newt nodded absently.

“I’ll have to make it into wool and then yarn, so I can stitch blankets for each baby. Eostre, fourteen at least.”

“F-fourteen?” Percival looked a bit startled again.

“The healer should be able to make a guess when I’m further along, magic could help make an estimate.”

“Magic could tell you each one, genders as well,” Percival frowned and Newt shook his head.

“No, that won’t do. It would be offensive to Eostre to do something like that. A big part of the birth is announcing each one and their gender, usually a large gathering comes to celebrate.”

“So we’ll have to plan an event as well?”

Newt shrugged. “It’s tradition. The parents of the couple usually arrange it. Mostly the mates don’t even attend. They stay with the babies for a few days in seclusion to bond. Everyone gathers in a near field and they bring gifts as well, to make sure the first winter goes well. The village is in a good state right now so I imagine we’ll receive plenty, I don’t think there are many other couples expecting. I’m not overly liked, but everyone does love a birth and my parents are well known. The fact that you’re a wolf will bring curious people as well.”

“Not overly liked?” Percival looked offended now.

“I’m a bit annoying aren’t I?”

The wolf looked at him as if he had gone mad, frowning at him.

“You’re sweet and clever and gorgeous and adorable.”

Newt’s face burned red but he felt a smile pull at his lips.

“O-oh….Thank y-you.“

Percival reached out and touched his knee lightly, making Newt glance up at the handsome wolf.

“What else should I add,” he finally asked and Newt looked back to their list.

 

Having a wolf turned out to be a rather large blessing. Percival dug out the rooms in two weeks and had the garden enlarged another two. He even planted a territorial vine that Newt dug up out of the forest. It slithered around the garden and burrow, chasing off anything smaller that got too close.

“Wolves really do make spectacular workers,” Newt noted, watching the wolf dig the dirt with a shovel. He offered a small pleased smile and Newt returned it warmly. Newt himself was petting the vines, pouring water on them so they associated him with good things and let him pass unbothered. Percival would have to as well. Once it knew them it would lean to protect them and their cubs and kits, who would carry their scent and magic feel.

The wolf truly was impressive when he had a plan laid out, working hard every day while Newt mostly wandered and minded his creatures. His mind still felt a bit muddled, as if maybe this was all a rather large mistake.

But if so, it was rather delightful.

Percival curled up with him every night, pulling Newt in close as if worried he might suddenly fall off the bed or something equally silly.

Newt might be a touch worried about it too.

Even though he had never fallen from his bed in his entire life.

Abruptly his own safety mattered a great deal more than it ever had before. Newt was weary of every muddy bank by the river and other ridiculous things, like corners on the counters of all things.

Frowning, he poked it and wondered if it was just him or if they were suddenly a bit sharp looking.

“We should round them,” Percival told him, coming up behind him and carefully winding an arm around Newt’s hip. The wolf was still a bit unsure about touching causally but Newt liked it well enough. There were wise tales about the father touching the mother often, so his children would know him. Someone in the market had brought it up and now Percival was making an effort, worried it might be true. He was terribly unsure of all things rabbit and adorably trying his best.

The village at least seemed to take a shine to them, curious about the mixed breed couple. Wolves weren’t common in a prey village but Percival was going a good job of being polite and charming. He seemed resolved on making things going well. 

“I thought so too,” Newt admitted, rubbing the corner and feeling a tiny bit validated that Percival agreed.

“Are you hungry? “Percival pressed, so endearingly careful about asking, as if he could convince Newt to eat simply by using just the right tone. He was fixated on Newt eating more, the healer filling his head with worries.

“Some berries perhaps,” he decided, knowing Percival wouldn’t give up until he snacked a bit. “I want to look over the birth books again, just to get used to the idea of it all.”

Newt had written his mum and dad of course, informing them of the unexpected surprise. They had been delighted and excited for not only kits but cubs, wholly embracing that Newt had chosen a wolf rather than a rabbit. His mum even mentioned she had always suspected he would bring home some dangerous sort, just because he had a habit of it. With beasts of course, Newt brought magical creatures home as a boy. Either way, she had sent him six books, four she had read and agreed with about rabbit pregnancy and kits and one on crossbreeding and one on wolves.

“I honestly don’t know if it’s fact or nonsense,” Percival frowned, reading through the wolf book again as Newt munched his berries and slipped the ocammy a few when the wolf was distracted. He did want to eat more and he was, but Newt wasn’t going to eat himself ill.

“We should be glad Tina’s sister knows about cubs then,” Newt mused. “They should return soon.”

Percival nodded.

“It’ll be good, Tina can help with the expansions of the rooms.”

Newt paused, biting his lip and Percival noticed right away.

“Can she?” he asked, his voice taking that ‘worried about rabbit things’ tone.

“It’s very personal,” Newt admitted. “Family usually helps. It’s a sign of utter trust. The burrow will have a bit of her magic about it, so it won’t hide from her and it’ll let her in always.”

“Hide?” Percival frowned. “I trust her,” he decided slowly. “I’ve trained her since she first arrived and worked with her for years. What family I have alive I’ve no interest in being around here, I’d trust them less than her.”

“Then she can help,” Newt patted Percival’s hand lightly. “The borrow is made with magic, it can’t be found by those who the owner doesn’t want around.”

Percival blinked, looking up at the clay and wood walls with a new assessing air.

“A protective house.”

“Very,” Newt agreed. “Burrows are known to collapse doors and rooms if someone attacks, to keep the inhabitants safe.”

Percival made an intrigued sound.

 

Tina arrived with his sister Queenie, both the wolves rather excited about the little ones.

Percival prepared the guest room for them, having moved in with Newt already.

“It would be bad luck to have anyone sleep in the children’s room, they should be the first ones to do so you see,” Newt explained and Queenie looked delighted and intrigued. Tina was a bit more closed off like Percival but her sister was bright and warm, clearly taken with learning about rabbits and sharing her own knowledge. She read the books on wolf cubs quickly and made notes of things not quite correct while she asked questions from the rabbit books. 

“I think it’s amazing, I’m happy for you both,” she offered brightly as they walked to the village for supplies. Percival and Tina were trying to lead the way, seeing if they could navigate the forest. But it was old and filled with magic, it had a habit of turning those it didn’t like around. So far they had only turned the wrong way once and seemed determined not to again. Newt suspect the forest was playing with them.

“T-Thank you,” Newt replied to Queenie, never sure how to accept kind words.

“I always worried about Mister Graves you see, he was so alone and he clearly needed someone. Imagine my joy when Tina came back saying he had fallen for some pretty rabbit and was going to have a family!”

Newt flushed harder, glancing at the back to the wolf ahead of them. Percival was inspecting a break in the path, clear debating if it was one they took.

“We hadn’t expected for all of this,” Newt admitted and Queenie nodded.

“I think Luna intended it though, she sent him here and let you both meet. Eostre as well, I think both mothers wanted their children happy. You go together so well, it’s clear there’s affection between you two.”

“It is?” He couldn’t help but ask and the wolf nodded her head cheerfully, her blond curls bouncing.

“I’ve known Mister Graves for a long time and I’ve never seen him treat someone like he does you, it’s clear he cares for you a lot, beyond the pregnancy. And you fancy him don’t you?” She peered at Newt, eyes bright and clear, not a touch judging or expectant. Something about her made Newt feel like the truth would be safe with her.

“I d-do,” he admitted and glanced at Percival, nearly tripping when he saw the wolf look away quickly, clearly having overheard him.

Queenie slipped her arm into Newt’s lightly.

“The way I see it, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be happy together then,” she advised with a sweet, if a touch sly, smile.

Newt reply was lost when the wind shifted, a faint scent sour in the air. Newt bit his lip and glanced at Percival and Tina. Neither seemed to pick up on it, but Newt wasn’t sure if wolves were as cautious as rabbits. The scent didn’t linger though, so he let it pass, thinking perhaps he was getting a bit too cautious with the pregnancy.

 

Newt was glad when the village baker Jacob charmed Queenie, he left them flirting over bread and went to his appointment. Tina stayed with her sister, frowning at bit at the kindly rabbit smiling sweetly at her sister.

Percival trailed after Newt, following him into the healer’s shop.

“Queenie can be a bit much,” he eyed Newt worriedly and the rabbit made himself smile.

“It’s fine, she just surprised me a bit, she’s very perceptive.”

Percival nodded, but still wore that worried little frown, his one ear flicking a bit.

The check over went well, Newt’s belly beginning to show in a swell. Seeing it put Newt in a good mood and Percival followed as well. Both of them peering at the little bump. It was staggering to think it was their little ones developing.

Later on in bed that night Percival’s hands gently cupped it, fingers caressing their children.

“It’s hard to think that there are tiny little lives within, growing inside you,” he muttered against Newt’s neck. His warm breath ghosted over Newt’s rabbit ear, making it flicker a touch.

Percival breathed again, a touch intentional to watch it twitch again. He was clearly fascinated with them but seemed a tad shy about admitting it outright.

Newt just sighed and snuggled down into the bed and warm body behind, feeling rather tired. But then, he usually was these days, worn out from nothing. But it proved to be a boon of sorts.

He stayed back more often when they made trips to the village. They needed to go more for supplies with three more adults in the home along side stocking up for the little ones.

Percival worried but with time he went more willingly, letting Newt have a day here and there to himself. He just wasn’t used to having a house full and it was beginning to wear on him a bit.

Newt found the quiet nice, a bit lonesome in a new way but also calming. He supposed if Percival was in the next room over working on something he’d be perfectly content. He missed the days before Tina and Queenie. While he liked them both and was happy to host them, it was a bit of a change for Newt.

He liked to stay up rather late and sleep the mornings away. Percival hadn’t minded, he was prone to sitting up late into the night as well. But Tina and Queenie both went to bed early and rose early, leaving Newt waking early himself. They were quiet of course but the sounds of them always woke him, not used to others in his burrow. Still, Newt would keep his minor troubles to himself, the wolves were a blessing and they helped Percival constantly.

Newt just needed to adjust.

After all he’d have a burrow full soon enough.

 

At two and a half months in, Newt was rapidly approaching the halfway point of his pregnancy. The kits and the cubs would both arrive soon enough. His belly was truly beginning to show. His feet were aching terribly but he could also feel his children in his stomach. Little flutters and kicks with in him, one of the most unique sensations he had ever felt before.

“It seems so quick,” Queenie mused, watching Newt rub his stomach one morning, Percival cooking breakfast with a determined air about him. The wolf was keen on learning to make proper meals for rabbits, thinking ahead when he had kits to feed.

“But the book on rabbits did place the time line right it seems,” she added when Newt felt a moment’s worry.

“Well, the healer said to go along with a rabbit pregnancy more than anything, just to eat a bit more red meat. My body doesn’t need it as much, but it’s good for cubs she said.”

Newt accepted the plate of eggs and bacon, bits of apple cut up and warmed with a touch of maple to make them delicious. Percival was very good at cooking already and Newt was looking forward to more meals by the wolf. He smiled up at him and Percival returned it. He was still a bit stiff with Tina and Queenie there but he relaxed more and more with time.

“I’m just glad I’m not swollen up yet,” Newt commented and the wolves blinked in union almost.

“The book had mentioned that, I’m not sure what it referenced, swelling and dribbling,” Queenie smiled brightly to cover a touch of embarrassment. 

Newt blinked at her, realizing what she had to be thinking and flushing a deep red.

“Oh no, no, it refers to my chest! Rabbits come into milk right after birth. But it’s common to become very tender and swell past midway.”

“Milk,” Percival looked a bit shocked, an unusual look for him.

“I had thought as a male that might not happen to you?” Tina mused and Newt shrugged.

“If I can carry them, why wouldn’t my body be able to feed them as well?”

The wolves seemed to concede that point.

 

“Will you really feed them?”

Newt glanced over at Percival, a touch curious why he had waited until they were in bed for the night, alone, to bring up the matter again.

“Well, as much as I can. I won’t fill out very much so my milk production won’t be very high. We’ll need a goat to help feed the little ones. That or a wet nurse. It’s common enough, when the litter is large. The healer mentioned it.”

“You don’t find it odd?”

Newt turned on the bed, so they were lying together on their sides, facing each other. It was getting hard to move about already, his stomach hindering him.

“Not really, but then I grew up with it, it’s common. Does it bother you?”

“Not bother,” Percival corrected, looking a touch unsure as he pushed a strand of Newt’s hair from his face.

“Would it upset you to help? I suppose I could ask the healer.”

“Help?”

“I’m already sore, I’ll need to… drain when it comes time to wean.” It had never occurred to Newt to think of it as odd.

“Mates usually help,” he added absently and Percival made a strange sound, peering at Newt.

“Am I your mate then?”

Newt stared, realizing they never had actually talked about them, only about their children.

“I h-hadn’t meant t-to a-ss-um,” he stuttered but Percival was pressing in close, nuzzling their faces affectionately.

“I didn’t want to either, I thought I’d let you decide. What we would be.”

“Oh,” Newt breathed, glancing at the wolf who smiled back sweetly. He acted so gruff in front of others but here when it was just them, Percival allowed himself to be indulgent.

“Mates then?” Percival pressed gently and Newt nodded.

“So I’ll help you then, with this milk and anything else.”

“It’s usually sexual,” Newt blurted, watching Percival blink.

“Milk is special, mother’s milk. It can’t be wasted. If the babes don’t drink…the mate usually does.” Listening to himself explain it, Newt wanted to hide. It was common knowledge among rabbits, sexuality was normal. But to explain it to a wolf, it made them sound like sex fiends. 

“I’m sorry, this sounds… never mind,” Newt huffed, waving his hands as if the whole conversation would just disappear. He settled into the bed and managed to roll over so he was on his side facing away from Percival.

“G-good night,” he breathed and did his best to instantaneously fall asleep.

“Now that’s not fair,” Percival rumbled behind him. Gently the large wolf pressed up to Newt’s back. The rabbit bit his lip when he felt Percival’s erection rubbed up against his thigh.

“Talking like that and then telling me to forget it. Do you think I would hesitate to take any offer to have you?”

Percival’s tone took on a low quality when he was interested in sex. An almost growl in his throat that left Newt feeling distinctly turned on.

A hand slid over his waist and up to his chest, squeezing at the slight mound there. With the new sensitivity, Newt sucked in a quick breath at the feeling.

“I would delight in helping you with this milking, more so if it’s sexual,” Percival assured him. His warm breath touched Newt’s bare neck before he felt the hot wet rasp of a tongue.

He moaned out, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Percival reached over him and snagged his wand, a silencing charm filling the air. The niffler on the bed at their feet gave a greatly annoyed huff and waddled to the edge, jumping and heading over the fresh laundry to make a bed. The occamy had been making their way over but now they diverted to a pillow settled on the floor. The creatures all seemed to know when sex was about to occur.

But it was bit obvious really.

Newt turned his head and Percival sat up, leaning so he could kiss him soundly.

“Shall we practice?” Percival suggested and Newt smiled at the silly line but was none the less taken in with it.

They were more gentle than the spring fever, both worried about the little ones. But Percival fucked into Newt, his cock sliding slickly as Newt whimpered. They spooned tightly, Newt’s back to Percival’s chest.

“Please,” he whispered, feeling the knot begin to fill out deliciously. Percival growled against his neck, a proper thing with teeth nipping and Newt sobbed.

Warm calloused hands were cupping his chest, pulling on his nipples. They were far more sensitive and each tug made him huff in sharp breaths. Newt bit his lip as he whined higher, the bed creaking as Percival knotted inside him. Feeling everything peak, Newt choked a cry back as he came.

Percival nuzzled him as he came down, the two clinging tightly as the knot tied them.  

“My little mate,” the wolf rumbled and Newt felt such a swell of affection for him rising in his chest.

“My wolf,” he replied and twisted so they could kiss properly.

 

Newt’s mum arrived without warning on a warm summer evening.

Percival frowned at the stranger when she let herself in without a thought but before the wolves could get upset Newt was pushing himself up off the couch.

“Mum,” he greeted her, surprised but happy to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“Hush now dear. I helped your father get all settled in and came when I could,” she explained. With gentle hands she cupped his belly and rubbed it with a delighted smile.

“I’m so happy Newt, so excited. Your father too, he’s been packing night and day since he heard.”

“Packing?” Newt blinked and glanced at Percival, knowing he should make proper introductions.

“We’re moving of course, packing up the burrow and coming closer to you. We’ve enough for a little place at the edge of the village.”

Newt forgot introductions at that statement, turning to stare at his mum.

“You can’t move, not because of me. You made that burrow mum.”

She nodded and patted his cheek as she did when he was young, smiling indulgently. Newt was led to the kitchen table and sat down, his mum setting up the kettle for tea, lighting a flame with a tap of her wand.

“I did make it. And I raised my children in it. Now I’ll move closer to my grandchildren, you’ll need help dear.”

Newt couldn’t argue that but he also didn’t want to think he had caused his parents to give up their home.

“We’ve been planning it for awhile now, moving into the village is safer when you get up in age like we are. We just decided to wait until you started a family.”

Newt flushed, pleased that his parents had been so sure he would. That his awkwardness hadn’t made them think he wouldn’t find a mate.

The thought made him look over at Percival and his mum followed his gaze.

“Is this your wolf then?”

Percival stood a touch straighter, peering at Newt’s mum and looking distinctly…anxious. Newt felt his heart soften.

“Yes. This is Percival.” He offered waving the wolf over. “Percival, this is my mum.” Newt wanted to stand up to introduce them but his mother beckoned him to remain sitting. She went over and shook Percival’s hand easily, peering at him intently for a moment.

“He’s very handsome,” she decided and Percival looked completely unsure how to take the comment. Newt fought a smile as the wolf was led to the table and settled in beside Newt.

Tina and Queenie made their own greetings and before long they were all sipping tea and watching his mum begin dough for bread.

“Living here?” There was a distinct scandalized tone to his mother’s voice as she turned to inspect the two wolves. “Oh dear, that won’t do.”

“They’re no inconvenience,” Newt defended and his mother just shook his head at him.

“You should be with your mate alone dear, you two are moving swiftly and should be spending this time bonding together. Not managing guests.”

“It’s fine,” Newt tried to insist but Tina and Queenie were sharing worried looks.

“That never occurred to me, that we might be in the way more than helping.” Tina fretted.

“You’ve helped a great deal,” Newt maintained, glancing at Percival. He seemed unsure, looking between them all. The poor wolf was always trying to follow any sort of rabbit lore he picked up.

“Nonsense. I’ve rented a place in the village, there’s enough room for you both,” his mother decreed.

“Newt, you should be spending more alone time with your mate. Why this whole house should be teeming with your magic combined. It’s much stronger that way.”

“Mum,” Newt flushed.

“What do you mean?” Percival honed in, locked on the mention of stronger. Newt wanted to crawl under the table, knowing exactly what his mother was about to say.

“Sex, dear boy. You two should be having sex and lots of it. All over. It strengthens the burrow and helps it learn your magic is combined. Lets the place know you’re a part of this home as well now.”

Newt’s face burned red and the wolves at the table looked various shades of embarrassed and intrigued. 

“What does sex have to do with magic?” Queenie asked, the least frazzled by the topic.

“Rabbits are linked to fertility, Eostre blessed. Our magic is linked to our bodies and also our sexuality. Our burrows are extensions of that in a sense. All of it is linked. So the more a new couple has sex within the burrow the more the magic feeds into the wards and power of the home. It’s also healthy for the babies, to learn their father’s magic through love making, just as the burrow does.”

Newt wanted to melt into his chair. Sexual talk was common with rabbits but it clearly wasn’t with wolves. All three were rather somewhat uncomfortable and Newt was mortified for them.

“So in the morning, we ladies will head out and leave this couple to minding their home.”

With the thoughtful look Percival was wearing, Newt knew already they would be coupling all over the house. Despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t feel bothered by that idea.

 

It was a warm fall morning when Percival headed to the village for supplies.

“Your mom will be over shortly?” He double checked and Newt assured him he’ll be fine.

“She is every morning,” Newt told him, accepting a sweet kiss from the wolf before he headed out. “You’ll likely pass her.”

The forest had been kind to Percival of late, letting him make his way without leading him astray. But Percival doesn’t like leaving Newt on his own.

This far into the pregnancy it’s not unusual for mates to cling Newt knows. But he also does like his personal time. If something went wrong a quick spell would call Percival back easily. The village isn’t that far. The creatures are very protective as well.

He waved his mate off and began working in the kitchen, slicing up some ripe tomatoes to make into a paste to jar for the winter. The harvest was beginning and so they need to store up on food for the little ones. Pickling and jarring the garden as they went along. Percival was learning more about hunting deer from the village games keeper as well. The wolf wasn’t used to hunting game. They didn’t do that in the city it turned out. But being a predator and keen tracker, the games keeper was certain Percival would learn quickly.

Newt hummed to himself with the creatures about the burrow scurrying about in a soothing racket.

He felt the burrow waver before anything else. A slight tremble of wrong.

Percival appeared at the door, smiling easily as he let himself in.

The borrow lets him.

Only a very powerful sort could do such a thing, Newt had never heard of it happening before beyond old stories.

Newt very carefully smiled back warmly, reaching to kiss the wolf’s cheek in greeting.

“What did you forget?”

“Perhaps I just wanted to be with you?” Percival teased, pressing close to Newt and cupping his full belly.

It was hard not to flinch but Newt managed with a smile in place.

“Tea first, you know that the healer said.”

Percival hummed in agreement, despite the healer saying no such thing.

So Newt fetched the two tea cups at the top of the cupboard and set the kettle from the heat. He prepared both cups and Percival took them from him, leading him to the table. Newt followed with a few slices of fresh sweet bread to snack on.

The niffler is watching Percival wearily and Dougal has gone invisible. The creatures are all hiding, tucked in nests. Some are shivering with fear. Newt pretended not to notice this as he blew on his tea and nibbled on his bread.

“What about the supplies?”

“I can go later,” Percival insisted, smiling warmly as he dropped a hand on Newt’s knee and squeezed. When he slid it upward Newt pushed his hand away and waved a finger at him.

“The healer was very clear, mister wolf. Drink the tea first.”

Newt picked his own up and took a hearty sip.

“It’s good for them,” he reminded gently when Percival hesitated and that made him move, lifting the cup and taking a quick drink.

“A touch too sweet for me,” he frowned and Percival doesn’t like sweets, that much was true.

“Take mine then,” he switched the cups and sipped the mix.

Percival barely touched it again but a single sip was enough.

Newt waited a bit, eating the bread to pass the time before he got up and went to the kitchen window, looking outside and glad to be away from the imposter.

“Is there a reason you come here?” He asked.

The fake Percival wasn’t confused for a moment, his warm smile fading.

“Impressively perceptive.”

Newt shrugged.

“Prey always know a predator.”

“Find Percival please,” he directed at the niffler and the little beast was gone in a flurry. The beasts do what they want usually but when Newt asked, really asked, they’ve always helped him.

“Why are you here?”

“Curiosity mostly. A little rabbit that seduced a wolf. Percival is a powerful creature you know. I was surprised when he lingered for such a slight thing like you.”

Newt tipped his head, turning to frown at the stranger wearing his mate’s face.

“Are you the dark wizard he was looking for?”

Not-Percival offered a grandeur bow of his head and nodded.

“It wasn’t easy to hide from him. But I did and I expected him gone months ago. But he remained and refused to leave. It was only a matter of time before he caught on.”

Newt frowned.

“I see. I had thought something sour was in the air a few times. You must be very strong to hide as well as you are now, I can’t feel dark magic, even in my own home.”

Huffing softly and rubbing his belly to soothe the kicking that was starting he looked back at the stranger.

“Well, it was very rude, what you’ve tried to do.”

“I suppose. But I’ll do more than try.”

When the wolf stood up he frowned and then fell right over, hitting the floor rather hard.

Newt sighed, wondering why predators were always so overconfident.

The tea was perfectly safe for a rabbit but predators never reacted well to it. It was common for prey creatures to have such things, teacups and bowls laced with poisons that would only affect predators. Newt had asked the healer about them and the dangers with cubs in his belly but she assured him they would be fine. It wasn’t anything too dire anyway.

Just a heavy sleep inducer.

 

“Newt,” Percival panted, out of breath and gripping the doorway, the niffler at his feet.

“Oh, you’re safe,” Newt sighed in relief, meeting the wolf and cupping his face to press a kiss to his mouth.

“I was worried.”

“What happened? The niffler was panicking.”

“A stranger came, looking exactly like you. It was very impolite.”

Percival looked utterly distraught, his wand in hand and the magic crackling around him.

“Where did he go?”

“I let the vine take him for now,” Newt reassured and Percival blinked down at him.

“…The vine?”

The vine was mainly used to keep smaller creatures away from the gardens but if one was foolish enough to lay in it, they had learned it liked to constrict anything it could. To ensure there was no real trouble, Newt had dragged over the iron trap he had taken off Percival all those months ago. Using a nice long rope so he kept himself and his little ones away from the nasty thing, he dragged it over the imposter’s body to pin him.

Now the look alike was spread out on his back, vines holding him tightly and the iron on his body seeping his magic.

“That’s…ingenious. He can’t break free.”

Newt nodded, patting Percival’s arm gently to reassure him.

“I’ve told you before, rabbits are prey creatures, we know our way around a predator looking to stir up trouble.”

 

Percival was rather caught up in the idea that Newt had caught the dark wizard. He was named Grindelwald and apparently he was a powerful menace in the city. Newt didn’t spare him much attention or thought. Percival sent word and a group of wolves came from the city to collect the dark wizard. He was hauled off and Newt turned his attention to important things like stitching blankets.

The healer had felt his growing belly and estimated at least ten little ones. Percival had sat down hard on the stool when he heard that.

Newt planned to make fourteen blankets, better the have extra than not enough. His mum helped him plan and prepare but Newt had to make them on his own.

It was nice to have a project to focus on when he entered his late pregnancy.

Fall settled in and the harvests ended as Newt’s stomach rounded to startling size. His feet and back ached constantly now, enough that it genuinely hurt to move around.

So Newt ended up on bed rest, sitting up against pillows and knitting blankets while Percival checked on him every five minutes. Eventually, they just put a chair in the bedroom so the wolf could read or draw while keeping an eye on Newt.

“Are you sketching me again?” Newt asked even though he knew the answer. The way Percival would glance up at him for a moment before back to his page was answer enough.

“I like drawing you.”

Percival seemed rather enchanted with Newt’s changing body and he had many sketches of the rabbit. It was a bit embarrassing but also very endearing. Newt only let the wolf do so because drawing calmed Percival. It was his nervous habit almost, his fingers wanting something to do.

So Percival would draw and Newt would knit.

“A proper drawing?” The rabbit had to ask after a moment and Percival smirked. He wasn’t the least bit embarrassed.

“Percival,” Newt attempted to scold, his face burning red as his ears twitched.

The wolf drew…inappropriate images of Newt, of his bare body on display.

Newt’s chest had filled out a bit, small breasts with dark nipples and heavy with milk. Newt had been tidying up the desk a month ago when he found the drawing book with the dirty images in the back. Newt’s chest featured heavily, as well as his backside. There had been countless drawings of him sleeping, the sheet pulled aside. In the summer heat Newt always slept bare.

Percival hadn’t even been ashamed, smiling at the drawings and asking if he could compare them to the real thing. Newt had been too flustered to stay upset and they had ended up on the bed, Percival gently burying himself inside Newt’s body. To think he had thought wolves were more proper. Clearly he had been wrong. Still, the sex had been very good. 

Now with Newt so close to delivery, sex had stopped.

The little ones worried Percival far too much. Honestly, Newt didn’t mind, he felt tired and sore almost constantly. The idea of love making sounded like far too much work.

But they still had intimacy.

“Come here,” Newt called. Normally he would be shyer about this but it was for Percival. The wolf that was a tad uneasy to admit he wanted to scent mark. Rabbits didn’t scent mark like wolves did, casual touches were enough for them.

But Percival wanted more as a wolf.

He left his drawing pad on the chair and crawled into the bed easily. Percival carefully arranged himself behind Newt’s back, pressing close.

The rabbit tipped his neck invitingly and Percival accepted immediately. He nuzzled his face into Newt’s neck, breathing in the scent of him and rubbing his brow along Newts skin. Long fingers trailed on his forearms without hindering his knitting. Percival touched him all over, skin on skin, transferring scents. It wasn’t a heavily sexual act, something more sweet about it all.

Newt fought a fond smile as he let the wolf snuggle his hair, a bit enamored with all this wolf behavior himself. It felt good to be held, not for sex or comfort but just to be held. Percival’s warmth seeped into Newt and it felt a bit like he was warming his soul as much as his skin.

 

Labor hurt.

Newt swallowed a whine as his mum pushed his damp hair off his brow.

“You’re doing very good,” she coaxed and Newt locked his gaze onto hers. The pain snarled through his body, clawing up his spine and everything hurt terribly.

Percival and the midwife were at the foot of the bed, the wolf looking a bit pale but also very strong. Blood and pain were not new to him given his work, a boon now.

“He’s not torn open on his own, we’ll have to cut him open,” the midwife announced and Newt trembled.

“We can’t wait a bit longer?” his mum asked, her face worried. She had helped with other births over the years. Newt had chosen not to have a bunch of people in the room. Preferring the minimum that was allowed. His mum, his mate, and the midwife.

“No, he’s carrying cubs, if he hasn’t torn we need to do it. He needs to be opened wide to deliver safety.”

Newt chewed his lower lip, closing his eyes when he saw the gleam of the knife.

“You won’t feel anything, this will numb you,” He felt something cold between his thighs. In the small space along his perineum, he was swollen terribly, the area trying to tear open to let the children out of his body.

Newt didn’t feel pain but he felt the pressure built up, gave suddenly in a rush.

His mum clutched his shoulders as Percival worked with the healer. His firm grip taking Newt’s knee in comfort.

“They’ll come quickly now, as they deliver you must receive them,” she instructed the poor wolf. Percival had confessed wolf males didn’t participate in birth. Rabbit sires always delivered their young. The first hands to cradle them belong to the one who had helped create them. Percival was committed on following the custom and he looked determined still. He knelt between Newt’s spread thighs, his hands rubbing Newt’s thigh gently to comfort the both of them.

“You can do this.” He sounded so certain and Newt wanted to feel that way.

He had thought he was ready for giving birth but everything hurt and the room was spinning dangerously.

Newt had already drunk potions to assist and his own natural magic was trying to help him. But it still ached, his body strained hard as he gasped for breath.

 

“Push again darling,” his mum coaxed and Newt sobbed. “I know you’re tired, you’re doing so well, push again darling.”

Newt trembled, his muscles throbbing painfully and refusing to listen to him. But he forced them to obey, tensing as he sucked in deep breaths and tried his best.

It felt so strange, like nothing before it. This pressure and his muscles straining agonizingly hard. A burst of pain made Newt scream and he slumped into his pillow, panting for air as tears ran down his face.

“You did it,” his mum whispered and Newt struggled to sit forward, searching.

Percival was holding their first born, his hands gentle and true as a small cub squirmed.

“He’s so tiny,” the wolf breathed and Newt echoed the thought. Their baby really was little.

“It’s normal, he’ll grow quickly,” the midwife cut in calmly. She scooped the babe up before Percival could protest and rubbed the little one down with a clean towel.

“The next will come quickly,” she warned them and Newt felt the pains and the strain returning.

His screams worried the beasts, his poor dad out in the main room with them. Tina and Queenie helping to calm them all. They squawked and called as Newt trembled.

At some point the niffler managed to get in, curling under his one arm worriedly.

It kept going on, cub and kit coming forward.

Newt was so tired, his eyes losing focus as his mum gently shook him to keep him conscious.

“You’ve done so good.”

“Is he ok,” Percival’s voice sounded far away.

“His body is straining, cubs are hard, even as small as they are, there a size bigger than kits. It’s a large litter as well.”

It was. They were.

The kits notably smaller than the cubs, Percival holding them as if they might break in his hands if he moved too quickly.

Ten little ones, ten new lives and Newt’s body was still straining.

Another baby was born with a fresh slice of agony.

Newt’s thighs trembled, his body pushed too far, he couldn’t even move them. His back was numb, in pain for so long and his whole midsection just ached. His throat was raw from screaming and his whole being ached.

“Newt,” Percival’s voiced called him and he blinked in exhausting, fighting to stay awake. “You’ve done so well, extraordinary really. Just a bit more,” he coaxed and Newt shook his head.

He needed to sleep, just for a moment.

“Newt,” his mum pressed as well, not letting him rest.

“Almost, please, we’re almost there,” Percival reassured him, looking at Newt with an open plea. He’d never looked like that before, almost desperate.

Newt recalled dimly talk of slicing his belly if he couldn’t deliver the full litter.

That sounded terrible.

But his body ached so badly.

He whimpered, turning his face and Dougal was there now, rubbing at his shoulder with frantic sounds.

“Just a bit more,” the midwife told him, her stern tone soft for a moment.

Newt tried.

He barely recalled anything beyond the pain and then the blissful black of letting go. Eostre let him be done he thought weakly as he faded.

 

Newt woke up to sunlight and soft voices.

His whole body was still very sore but he’s not as bone deep drained as he was before. He’s lying comfortably in the middle of the bed, everything cleaned and feeling fresh. His body has been washed as well, his skin not feeling glazed with sweat and his hair not matted to his brow anymore. Birds chirped outside the window, the curtain dimming the room but letting a bit of sunlight in to make everything hazy and warm.

Newt turned and Percival was there, leaned over the long crib they had made together. Their children all seeming to be sleeping. A low hum came from the wolf, an adoring smile on his face as he tenderly rocked the crib. Newt had never seen the wolf look so open before, gazing down at their children.

The door was closed but Newt could hear the sounds of his parents interacting with Tina and Queenie. They would all stay for a bit, helping to settle the new parents in and guiding them. His mum would likely stay even longer, if they needed her assistance. 

Feeling content, watching his mate and little ones with his family near, Newt allowed himself to drift off to sleep again.

 

He woke more fully with the morning sun, Percival curled up beside him fast asleep still. A gentle scratching at the door sounded and Newt realized it was closed with magic, blocking the creatures.

He couldn’t fault the logic, eyes turning toward the crib.

Still he lifted the ward and Percival woke as his magic was disturbed. The niffler scurried into the room, settling on the foot of the bed to peer at Newt. He seemed to be asking if he was alright, looking the rabbit over. Newt managed a tired smile as he sat up slowly. His body still ached but it was fading with time.

Beside the bed on the little stand are two bottles of potions, one for pain and one to give him energy. Newt took them both and immediately felt better.

“Stay in bed,” Percival told him when he pushed the blankets back.

“I want to see them,” Newt replied and the wolf sat up and slipped from the bed before Newt can even get his sore legs over the edge of the bed. The crib lifted easily from the stand and Percival floated it over, while holding his hands out to support it, as if his magic might suddenly slip and drop it. A rather silly notion.

“Are they all healthy?” He thought of his mum’s terrible delivery and worried that his children might not be alright, that any of them might not have made the night or something equally horrid. 

“Each and every one, the healer looked them all over twice,” Percival assured him.

The crib holds the entire group all of them snuggled in piles to keep warm. Newt gently ran a finger over a tiny head, a little wolf ear flicking under the touch.

“They’re so perfect,” he breathed, a delighted smile crossing his face as he took in each little babe.

“They really are,” his mate agreed. “We’ve fed them already, the goat should be enough but you mum wants you to pump milk right away, to try and boost the production.”

Newt hummed in distant agreement, eyes locked on his children. He could watch them for hours, he thought fondly.

The niffler waddled on the bed, sniffing as he climbed on the edge of the crib. His paws touch an unseen cover over the crib. Percival’s magic blocking the beast from entering.

“Really now, he’s only curious.”

“After a few weeks they’ll be strong and growing, right now they’re too delicate. A single wrong touch can hurt them.”

Newt couldn’t argue that. He loved his beasts but they didn’t often know how to be gentle. The midwife had warned them both that the first few weeks were the hardest. It was vital to keep them fed and warm as they adjusted to life outside the womb. Their own magic not strong enough to support them and their bodies barely able as well.

Newt’s magic was curled around the cradle as well he realized. It was reaching out without his will, instinct protecting his offspring.

“Welcome,” he offered to his children, feeling his heart nearly burst when one gave a sleepy yawn. Newt had never been around kits this young. He’d never done well with babes, never felt the pull others did from a young age. But here now, looking at his own little ones he felt his heart throb in joy.

 

“Emily, please don’t,” Percival called. Newt looked up in time to see Emily giggle in delight as she tossed the bowl of mush across the room. Percival’s magic grabbed it midair but most of its contents still spilled onto the floor. Creatures came from every way to gobble it up. They did love the children for that, bits of food everywhere. The niffler was best friends with the cubs and kits. He was getting rather fat as well.

Newt would worry more about it when the children were a bit older. For now, feeding, changing, and getting them to sleep was his main focus. As well as very cautiously introducing them to the creatures.

Thankfully there had been no real issues. The more aggressive creatures were moved into a closet for safety. Percival had helped Newt expand the small space into a proper area where he could set up habitats for those visiting until they were healed enough to head back into the forest.

Newt had no real time for the beasts at the moment so he was guiltily glad that no badly hurt creatures ended up at his door stop. He was utterly busy with the children, twelve little ones squirming around and slowly figuring out how to move. They were beginning to babble now, a few months old, and trying to make facial expressions, which was adorable.

Percival was utterly adorable himself. Newt’s mum had lectured him on cuddling and talking to the babies to bond strongly. He took this advice to heart and spent hours carrying each baby around, chatting softly to them.

“We have to mix the tea, a bit of honey, just a tap, for mama. He likes it a bit sweet,” he rumbled gently as Gawain laid on his chest, chatting nonsense along with his papa. Percival had a tendency to just narrate what he was doing to talk. Newt could just watch him for hours, a big old wolf with a tiny baby curled tenderly in his arms.

“Focus,” his mum told him, tapping Newt’s head to gain his attention just as Tristan and Geraint both decided to follow Emily and toss their bowls.

Jumping up he stopped them without spilling them, setting them down before the babes again.

“None of that. Just ‘cause Emily is trouble,” he lectured them and three eyes just peered up curiously, not understanding a single word.

Kay whined needily from the crib so Newt switched with Percival, kissing Gawain on the head as Percival took his seat at the table to help feed the babes.

The cubs grew faster than the kits.

Eight little cubs and four kits. Newt loved all his children but he supposed they were lucky to only have four kits this go. The cubs were all eating mashed fruit and vegetables while the kits still needed milk. Thankfully Newt managed the four mostly on his own. The goat, Benny, was still producing for them when Newt was too sore.

He worked through each little one, feeding the kits as the cubs managed to get food all over themselves at the table. Percival was endlessly patient with them and never minded when he got food or spit up all over himself. Emily in particular was terrible for it, gurgling away as she slapped at Percival’s hand, happily smearing food on him. The wolf smiled in return and his daughter wiggled her ears at him. Eostre, they were utterly endearing.

The cubs were developing a bit faster so they were up in chairs already while the kits were still working on crawling about. His mum and the midwife assured they were all fine. Around a year or so their growth would match up. The cubs would always grow a bit bigger than the kits of course, given the natural size differences. Newt’s main concern was that they were all healthy, which they were.

 

“Really?” Newt asked with a tease when Percival followed him into the bedroom. The babes were down for their morning nap with his mum minding them in the living room. Newt had gone to change his shirt which was covered in milk and spit up beyond what a charm could clean.

He raised a brow at his mate as the wolf gently closer the door and stalked over to him with a playful gleam.

“I just thought, now that we have a moment,” Percival explained and Newt fought a smile, letting the wolf bump into him and pull him in. He was only in a pair of trousers.

Thankfully his chest had not filled out enough to need support and cause back aches. But that had meant they needed poor Benny working overtime the first few months. They’d even bought a second goat for a bit, to feed everyone. Now, with only four to mind, Newt was usually still a bit lopsided after feeding them all, not completely empty.

Which Percival, as it turned out. Enjoyed very much.

Newt hadn’t been sure of this rabbit custom would take between them. Percival had given interest in his chest during sex, licking his nipples and the like. Now as they swelled with milk, the wolf surprised him but taking to it. Newt suspected Percival surprised himself a bit, with how much he liked to fondle and suck at Newt.

His warm hands guided Newt to the bed, sitting him down on the edge as Percival knelt before him, spreading his thighs so he could edge in closer.

Sharp teeth nipped Newt’s chin and he felt the stirring of lust rush through him in answer. Reaching for his wand he cast a spell to keep noise from leaving the room while still letting them hear in case they were needed.

Biting his lower lip he felt Percival nuzzle his collar before moving down to lick over a flat nipple. They did ache sometimes but will less to feed it was easier. Percival’s gaze looked up at him as he pulled a mouthful of milk.

Sure hands slid up his thighs and Newt shivered. Nursing their young never pulled out any sort of reaction but Percival never failed to excite him when he drank.

Newt curled his hands in the wolf’s hair, hands ghosting over his furred ears as he whimpered.

“Tease,” Percival accused as he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He drank from Newt without shame, freely taking what was his right. Old rabbit talk mostly but Newt felt a distinct pleasure in this exchange.

Percival sucked him dry and then leaned Newt back on the bed. Clever hands undid his trousers and Newt was bared quickly. He spread his thighs in invitation and Percival was freeing his own erection.

They had been going easy with his body still recovering from birth. But now months after they had been assured it was perfectly safe.

“Any pain?” Percival asked anyway and Newt shook his head in negative. It only felt wonderfully full as the wolf pressed into him.  

“Be a dear and f-fuck me hard,” he managed to reply and Percival growled at the filthy talk. He really did enjoy Newt saying such things. Saying it was such a delight to hear his proper voice speak lewd words.

Percival’s teeth bit at Newt’s neck as he obediently fucked him into the bed. His hands held on with a rough edge and he truly did ram nice and rough.

Newt sobbed in reply, whimpering as he was taken, his body stretching open so wide to take Percival’s cock.

“Pretty bunny,” he muttered, teeth gently biting at Newt’s long rabbit ear.

“Rough wolf,” he managed to reply and the words ended on a high note as Percival slammed into him rapidly, a few powerful thrusts that made Newt tremble in delight.

“Knot me,” Newt asked, begged almost and Percival growled happily in return. He adjusted his position over Newt, reaching to spread his thighs wide so he could proper fuck hard and deep into the rabbit. Newt replied with breathless whimpers as he was bounced on the bed, feeling the knot begin to fill.

“Please,” he choked out, arching off the bed as a near vicious slam made him come. His body twisting in pleasure as he sobbed. Percival followed quickly after, groaning out as he buried deep and knotted in Newt.

They panted for breath together, Percival’s grip turning sweet as he held himself up over Newt. He leaned down for a kiss and Newt cupped the wolf’s face to give it freely.

“I love you,” he breathed, feeling utterly satisfied with a nice knot inside him and a family outside the room. Percival had given him so much.

The wolf went still and Newt realized his words, that he had not said it before. It seemed silly, that this was the first time after all that had happened. But it had been a single spring, summer, and fall.

“I love you too,” Percival rumbled and Newt smiled brightly in reply, pulling him down for more kisses.

 

“Newt?” Theseus sounded badly shocked.

Newt came out of the children’s room with Emily on his hip. Percival was spread out on the couch sleeping soundly with a pile of children on top of him, everyone napping. Newt put a finger to his lips to motion for quiet and Theseus nodded weakly.

He was staring at Emily with very wide eyes.

The spring day was a warm one so Newt stepped out of the burrow with his daughter. Theseus followed and continued to stare.

“I take it my letter’s never reached you?”

His brother shook his head.

“Theseus, you really must make more effort to receive them. Mum and dad have moved you know, they live in the village now. With Queenie and her new mate Jacob.”

“And that wolf in your house?”

“Percival, my mate,” Newt told him with a bit of a shy but utterly fond smile.

“Mate,” Theseus breathed.

“And our cubs and kits.”

It was a bit funny, how shell shocked his poor brother looked.

“All… all of those little ones? They're...yours?”

Newt nodded proudly.

“Yes. You’ve twelve nieces and nephews to meet.”

“Twelve,” Theseus croaked and Newt smiled. He might be enjoying this a bit too much.

“W'elve,” Emily echoed and Newt nodded, bouncing her on his hip.

“Very good my darling. Can you say uncle?” he coaxed but his stubborn girl put her thumb in her mouth instead. But she did watch Theseus curiously, knowing he was a new face.

“A… a wolf?”

Newt nodded, peering at his brother to see his reaction. A few bitter souls thought that match improper but the village over all had accepted it. Newt always had been the odd one, it seemed to fit their ideas of him that he would take a predator for his mate.

“Newt, I’m not ever surprised. Of course you’d lure a wolf.” Theseus laughed, seeming to shake off his shock finally. He leaned forward and waggled his fingers at Emily in greeting. Her eyes wide and curious as he smiled warmly.

The sunlight filter through the spring leaves and a warm breeze floated in the air. Newt felt so utterly brilliant, a smile constantly threatening to overtake his face. To think a mere year ago he’d worried he would never find a mate or have a family. Now here he was introducing his brother to his daughter, with a full house behind him. How quickly his life had changed in such a short amount of time.

“Newt?” Percival called with a yawn. Gawain and Lancelot scampering out side but coming up short when they found a stranger with him. Both cubs rushed to clutch their mum’s pants and peer shy but curious.

Percival appeared in the door way with a trail of sleepy children, two of the still clutched to his chest and sleeping soundly. The others waddled lazily, still waking up. Dougal and the doxies were walking with them, the beasts all very protective of the little ones. The wolf peered at him curiously, snuggling their babies close as he shook off his own sleep as well. He looked relaxed and content, so far away from that reserved wolf Newt had brought home last year.

Newt had never seen anything so perfect.

Notes:

Very fluffy but fun to write! Took forever to finish it. I almost considered a darker turn, like prey don't eat meat and Newt was the creepy one who did, but I decided on something fluffy as fuck. Save the creep for the next fics.

I'm working on a incesty daddy Percy omega boy Newt fic. As well as a dragon Newt wooing Percy fic. Vamp fic as well as the horror au fic. Also thinking on a forest god Newt falling for human Percival or vice versa. Something properly fall themed.

If this fic goes over well I'll likely write more about this family!