Tales of the Ice Harpy from Glacia

"I want to go to Fandom, dammit!" Karla and Warren were arguing again. This had been happening more and more often as the temperature climbed, the humidity set in, and the baby they were still referring to as Nommy stubbornly remained where he was. Kayla had been more than a week late; it looked like her brother was going to try to beat that record. Why had Karla been cursed with such stubborn children? "Dammit, Warren, I wasn't asking for permission, I was informing you of my plans!"

No, really, she had no idea where they got it from.

Warren flared his wings, glad the molt had come and gone so that gesture was back to being intimidating, rather than pathetic. Not that Karla had ever been particularly intimidated by it. "It's spring," he growled. "And you still don't have Craft. Fandom's dangerous in the spring and I'm not going to have you trapped on the island while Portalocity sits on its thumbs during another crisis! A crisis you won't have Craft for!"

He understood that she was going stir-crazy in the estate; the last few weeks of carrying Kayla had been hard for her as well and she often felt suffocated by the overenthusiastic protection of the Court. But just because she was impatient to get away and see their friends again did not make it a good idea.

"Call Raven!" Karla snapped, hands on her hips. "She'll want to come with me anyway! And if Portalocity bails on us, she can bring me home!"

"Right, because a trip through the Netherverse is always a great--"

"Call Raven!" Karla's hands moved from her hips to her stomach.

"Karla, I'm really not comfortable--"

"No," she said, face going pale and breath hitching up. "I mean, call Raven. Your son had decided he doesn't want to visit the island today either."

Warren gaped at Karla for a second before his brain finished parsing what she meant. "Right!" he said, sweeping her up into his arms to run to the birthing chamber. Karla would have protested, but if this time went like last, she'd get plenty of walking in before this was all over with.

[For the empath, please! NFB for distance]

On January 25, 2015 (well, the Kaeleeran equivalent thereof), Karla and Warren welcomed their daughter, Kayla Kathryn Worthington, to the world. She was born weighing 6lbs and 9 oz and was 20.01 inches long. Mother and daughter are doing just fine and will be up for receiving visitors sometime next week.

Attached to the email were roughly thirty pictures, because you needed a bunch of pictures of a baby sleeping and/or being held by various people, right?

Karla stood, hands on her stomach, admiring the wall of the nursery. Dujae had finished the mural several days ago, but had decreed that Karla was not to see it until the paint had fully dried and fumes had dissipated. This morning was the first time she'd been allowed to visit and she was blown away by how lovely it was. She knew the sky would make Warren happy and the snake...

"Look," she whispered. "There's your uncle Jono. See? He's always watching over you."

With the mural done, everything was in readiness. The mural was done, the nursery was done, everything was done--except for the baby. She was now four days overdue and there was no sign that the baby was doing anything but getting ready to enjoy sleeping in on day number five. Karla was more than a little aggravated by this development (she was supposed to be drinking coffee by now!), but it was hard to remember her grumpiness at her daughter while standing in the middle of the nursery devoted to her existence.

"Listen, munchkin, you have another day before I getting really ticked," she said. "I'm cutting you a bit of slack because I'm in a really good mood today. But tomorrow, I mean it, okay?"

But yeah. Everything was ready and waiting for the guest on honor to make her first appearance. Everything was--

Wait.

"Warren?" Karla called. "We're supposed to be able to open the closet door, right?"