Hello y'all! This story has a graphic animal birth in it which is why it is rated teen. This is a weird premise I know, but this is a situation that I have found myself in while working in animal husbandry, it was only a matter of time before I had Newt play in my experiences as well. Hope you enjoy!
(I wrote this like 8 months ago while I was still in school, so it is a bit rushed.)
Newt had made a mistake, one that he of all people shouldn't have made. Laying in the savanna habitat with the bright artificial sunlight beating down on his face, turning it a bright shade of pink. Though he knew that deep down he really didn't regret his actions, he only wished that he wasn't so thick at times. He tried to move to a more comfortable position; but stopped as his chest stung viciously, and black spots danced in his eyes. 'Damn, okay maybe I do regret my actions a little bit.'
"Why did I not leave Picket?' He said exasperatedly to himself.
Of course, the young bowtruckle was fine, sitting calmly on his forehead chattering away, like Newt did not just get run-over by a 3,600-pound erumpent. 'But he could get out of this, maybe. He just needed a plan.' He thought closing his tired eyes thinking. This whole mess had all started while he was checking his animals around midnight.
Newt was enjoying himself as he felt the cool breeze on his face walking around the habitats. He walked past the nifflers and bowtruckles, laughing as he felt Picket sink lower in his pocket as he past his peers. "You're being absurd they aren't going to hurt you." Though Picket and the other bowtruckles were not the reason for Newt's midnight wanderings.
No, Newt was eager to see if the ever increasingly dilated erumpent was going to start calving, but as he finally turned into the savanna habitat he was met with a somber sight. There lay his erumpent heaving in the throes of hard labor, pushing for all she was worth on a lifeless lump. Panicking at the sight he pulled out his wand and whispered "Lumos." Instinctively knowing even before the wand ignited that there as something terribly off about the situation.
The calf was breach; the limp tail of the infant was all Newt could see. Panicking Newt hurried to his poor pet's side assessing the situation. He knew from experience that the chances of the calf still being alive were next to zero; and if he didn't step in soon the mother would die as well. The thought of losing one of his beloved friends made the breath catch in his throat. Without a second wasted, Newt stripped off his button up shirt revealing strong, lean arms and shoulders. Non-verbally he summoned his supplies holding out his wand arm. The supplies needed quickly zoomed towards him; two chains as thick as his thumb, two metal handles, a bucket of water, a vial of lidocaine, and a syringe with a long thin needle.
Newt wished he was not so practiced at handling these kinds of muggle veterinary practices, but most magical beasts were magic resistant. Leaving him to find alternative ways of treating his beloved creatures. To his great pleasure he found that many muggle methods worked wonderfully on most magical creatures, although he hated preforming this piece of the craft on his animals. Erumpents were notorious for having difficult births, and the only way Newt had found to help the poor animals was to administer an epidural.
Slowly edging closer to the down beast, Newt carefully made his presents known by resting his hand carefully on the quivering erumpent's flank "Shh" he said softly "I am here to help." He finished stroking her gently along the back, pulling the brown glass bottle of lidocaine out of his pocket; he deftly plunged the needle into the stopper and drew out the necessary amount.
"I am sorry love. This is going to sting a bit." He whispered, as he grabbed her tail moving it up and down, looking for the place where her vertebrae stopped flexing. Feeling a finger along the bumps and valleys of her spine, before quickly finding the dip he was looking for. Carefully he slid the unattached needle into the mother's back, feeling the needle slide between his fingers as he hit the negative pressure in her spine; the erumpent jerked a little as he administered the shot. Wincing himself as he did so he spoke again "Easy, love, easy. I promise this will help." He stated firmly stroking her again and waiting for her to numb up a bit.
"The worst part is over dear." Newt said, feeling the numbing agent relax the stressed animal. Gradually the contractions slowed. 'Okay now to wash up' he thought. Pointing his wand at his bucket he added soap to the water before plunging his hands and arms into the bucket; scrubbing them vigorously up to his shoulders.
Satisfied, he was not going to make the problem worse by accidentally causing an infection, he placed his hands on the baby and started to push it back up the birthing canal slowly. After five minutes of careful negotiation he managed it; feeling the calf slide back into the womb. Sighing in relief, Newt let his forehead fall on the back of the erumpent, trying to catch his breath. It wasn't an easy job fighting against the animal's contractions, but he had done it.
"Now let's try to get him out. I am sorry girl; you are almost done." He said, trying to suppress the hope the calf might make it, because he knew that it would be like losing the baby a second time. Looping the OB chains on his wrests Newt slid his arm back up the birthing canal and feeling for the baby's front legs. He began working on correcting the calf's' legs and body position, moving them from where they were pinned underneath it, to where they could be extended straight out toes pointed down.
Managing this fifteen minutes later Newt was amazed at how smoothly this had gone. The calf was now in a semi-correct position, the mother relaxing as the change in position released the pressure off her pelvis, it was time. Slipping the chains over the babies' ankles he readied himself to pull; hooking the handles to the chains and double checking that the feet where pointing out of its mother still. Newt began to pull, timing each heave with the contractions of the mother. Once, twice, three pulls; the calf emerged first head, then shoulders, and lastly hips, the baby appeared. Slimy, sliding free of its mother in a mess on top of Newt's sprawling legs. Standing up he pulled the baby a few feet further from its mother and bent by the infant's head hurriedly. Clearing its nose of the birthing sack and checking for the slightest signs of life. Newt counted to three before hearing a coughing wheezing noise as the baby's lungs kicked into gear, and its eyes fluttered; Newt nearly collapsed with relief. He had done it; the baby was alive!
Letting out a small laugh, Newt started rubbing the calf's ribs vigorously, jump starting the young one's organs. He paused as he heard a soft snuffing noise come from it, no wait. It was coming from the young bull calves' mother. Noticing the newborns signs of life coming from behind her, the mother stiffly regained her feet staggering slightly after the traumatic experience. Turning trying to see her offspring, the mother made a soft low called to the baby, and the little one let out a raspy grunt in reply. Newt smiled as he watches the pares transaction, knowing that the mother would take her baby, which wasn't always the case after a birth such as this.
This was Newts mistake; instead of leaving right then and there after assuring the pare did in fact acknowledge each other, and the mother did indeed want the baby after the traumatic birth. He stayed by the site picking up the supplies, knowing full well that Erumpents where highly protective mothers. Even though they were friends during feeding time, and she was always down for a light scratch behind the ears he had just caused her a significant amount of stress.
It was as Newt picked up the last chain from the dirt when it happened, and she snapped. Picket whom had been lazing on the side of Newts water bucket, squealed impatiently not wanting to be left. That was enough for the mother; Newt who had no time to move or reach for his wand was a perfect target. The scared animal rammed him dead on in the chest, flinging him aside like lose hay in the wind, Newt landed in a crumbled heap in the tall savanna grass ten feet away, breathless.
He felt like his chest was just set on fire. He couldn't breathe! Black spots filled his view of the night sky, and then finally, painfully, his body sucked in an agonizing breath. 'I am an idiot.' Newt thought miserably still blinking the haze from his eyes and wheezing. 'At least she wasn't still coming after him again.' He mused listening to the new mother talk to her calf; while trying to ignore the fire in his undoubtedly broken ribs, he let the darkness at the edge of his vision take him.
Newt estimated that he woke up head thumping about six hours later; judging by the fake sun above. The once cool savanna sand was now very hot and uncomfortable, but it allowed him the opportunity to not think to deeply about his throbbing head and chest. 'Where is Bundy when you need her? 'He thought to himself drearily, as he tried to sit up and blessedly managed it, with only a few unmanly sounds. The fire in his chest increased ten-fold at the change of position; leaving newt breathless and grunting pitifully.
His world spun for a bit and his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Which is why it took Newt some time before he noticed Picket chatting desperately at him, all Newt could do was just look at him and raise both eyebrows slightly.
"Okay, Picket I will take it slower." He said folding in his left arm protectively. Talking hurt; it hurt bad; but as he did it seemed to relax Picket, who just let out a sound like a deflating balloon.
"Picket, can you get my wand for me?" Newt whispered as he started to think that maybe sitting up was way more overrated then he thought it would be.
The green stick nodded; leaving Newt to lay back down; giving up the last hope he had of doing anything before he had his wand. He quickly lost track of time as he lay there waiting for the bowtruckle to finally come back. By the time the small stick creature came back Newt had nearly slid back to sleep. Though was quickly aroused by the smooth wooden handle sliding into his hand, warming his arm up to his shoulder. 'At last, a way out of his predicament' he thought, cringing inwardly at what he was about to do. If only he didn't let Bundy go on vacation.
I am going to call it good here for the time I will have Theseus, or another person come to the rescue, maybe. The birth of the erumpent is how we assist cows that have a breach baby in the pastures; they are my best friends so I try to help them in any way I can.