Heron Lake Plateau hazy shade of winter

Heron Lake Plateau had somehow become a home to the once-battered woman; she had a husband now, an extended family that gave her comfort when she needed it, and winter was on its way out. Things were looking good. They had changed drastically for Camilla since she'd been found that fateful day by Phox - and she was beyond grateful. All of that was tossed aside when she saw her husband though; they'd been going at it at every opportunity - they shared a voracious, insatiable physical appetite. Yes, things were very good.

Usually she would wake at dawn and offer herself to Phox; sometimes he wasn't in the mood but it was rare, and she didn't take it personally. This time when Camilla woke, it was much later in the day. She got up, popped her joints with a stretch, and rolled over with roaming eyes on the hunt for her husband - but he was gone. Off on a patrol maybe, or on some mission. His absence made her sad for a moment, but then Camilla noticed the warmth of the sun across her back and rolled again - belly up - and idly watched the suspended dust in the shafts of light. 

Gradually the woman became aware of an odd feeling. Like something was off, discoloring the otherwise placid, beautiful moment. She rolled to her belly and as soon as she was sprawled upon the earth, she felt it again - a churn in her belly, a burn in the back of her throat. She hurried to stand and move away from her sleeping space just as her throat constricted, and Camilla loosed a puddle of vomit across the frosted grass.

henlo, baby-momma

Things had settled into a lovely little routine. Now that Camilla's time had come and gone, all they had to do was wait it out and see if it had worked. With as much fucking as they'd done, Phox would be downright baffled if it hadn't worked (especially not knowing her history of child-bearing). He was headed back with a fresh kill of rabbit when he saw Camilla up ahead, sprawled out on her back. He smiled, rabbit still in his mouth, but that quickly transformed into more of a grimace when she rolled over and emptied her stomach.

The Delta's lip curled back in mild disgust, but it was thankfully hidden by the limp body in his jaws. He dropped it a few feet away from her, not wishing for it to be covered in vomit. A low whine escaped his throat as he found his way to her side, sniffing and prodding her gently to make sure it was nothing life-threatening. He wondered if he should call for Raven, but he wanted to assess things first.

Her throat burned as the excess bile drifted back down to her belly, and she licked her lips to try and clean herself off but the taste made a new wave of nausea roll through her; Camilla almost heaved a fresh wave across the dirt, but thankfully Phox showed up and gave a momentary distraction.

Mm, hi, she managed to murmur before her throat felt too weird to allow her to speak. What if she threw up again? What if she was contagious? All of a sudden Camilla was ripe with worry, and burrowed her face against Phox for comfort.

She greeted him, and she looked a bit... off, but after smelling the upchucked food on the ground, Phox was pretty sure it wasn't anything deathly serious. Not that he could smell every disease in the world, but he liked to think his nose was fine-tuned enough to sniff out the worst offenders. There was something odd about her scent, but he couldn't place it, and it certainly didn't seem wrong.

Did you eat something that didn't agree with you? he asked, doing his best to diagnose the situation with what little medical knowledge he had. He had certainly been in the "bad eats" situation a few times before, and he knew how unpleasant it could be.

He was concerned, which was touching. She burrowed against him with more vivacity then, but mid-motion felt another wave of nausea and had to pull back suddenly. His comment slipped in one ear and out the other if only because Camilla was looking for an angle-of-attack that would keep her sickness away from him if it overpowered her again; she dry-heaved a few times and when the compulsion ebbed away, she groaned and sprawled across the dirt upon her chin.

I dunno, she mumbled in response to his question, although it had been a delayed response. Her eyes shut when a third wave of weirdness flooded her body, but this one wasn't as strong. Maybe it would be alright. You should go, she added after it faded a bit, What if I make you sick? Her ears pinned back as she uttered this, and with a vaguely dramatic lift of one thin limb, she draped her foreleg across her snout — oh the humanity!

Go? That wasn't something Camilla wanted often (or, let's be real, ever), so it was especially perplexing that she would request that he leave. Then again, she seemed worried that he too would get sick. Something just wasn't adding up to him though. He couldn't quite shake the feeling, until all of the sudden it clicked into place. How long had it been since Camilla had been in heat? He tried to calculate the time, but since he didn't really do a good job of keeping track of the days, it was only a guess.

Oh, he muttered aloud, Maybe we should talk to Raven. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but that would explain why she smelled a bit off and why her stomach was upset. If that was the case, their life was about to get a whole lot more rambunctious.

Raven?

Why would they need to talk to her? Not that she didn't mind -- her sister-in-law was much nicer to her than the rest of the pack on any given day, especially when she'd first arrived. Camilla held no ill will towards the woman; the concept of seeing a medical professional didn't register in her mind but if it meant Phox would go, like she'd wanted, she would agree.

Yes, maybe.. Maybe find Raven, she made to sit up and move, but as soon as she did that she felt wobbly again. A vague sense of vertigo kept her planted on her ass, and soon Camilla was ducking against the dirt to prevent the ill feeling from becoming something more, ah, projectile.

Phox prepared to shuttle Camilla to Raven, but it seemed not even that was going to be a good idea. Another wash of concern passed over him. Was it supposed to be this debilitating? He knew that pregnancy could cause some weird shit to happen, but honestly he didn't know it would be this bad. It frustrated him that he couldn't know right this minute that everything was going to be ok.

Maybe you should wait here, he suggested, and I'll go get Raven? It was a half-question, since he wasn't sure how she'd feel about being on her own while he fetched his sister.

As soon as she was settled, pausing hunched over the dirt, things began to right themselves. There was a strong smell in the air - a petrichor - and it threatened to cause her ill; but she steadied, and when Phox moved - eager to find help - Camilla changed her mind. She glanced at him and swallowed a lump in her throat, then said, I think -- I think I'm okay. Its not so bad. The wave began to recede, although the strong smell was still there. Maybe she was merely growing sensitive.

Phox frowned, concerned. He wouldn't reject her wishes, though. She seemed to feel better, but he would definitely tell Raven about this next time he went for a visit. Sooner or later, Camilla would realize what was happening (or she'd be told by somebody or another). He moved to lick her eyes gently as a sign of affection. Phox still wasn't sure what exactly their relationship was, but it was something.

The rabbit was nearby, and he glanced at it. He wondered if he should bury it in a cache since Camilla probably didn't want to eat it right now.