Sawtooth Spire I'm giving you gold here, people.

Tonravik watched as he withdrew, fangs catching nothing but air. Her tail lashed behind her. She heard mewling and took a step back herself, but the furs along her nape remained lifted. She knew he wanted to see them, but he could not. Some mothers might have caved to his words, but she did not bend. "Naga," she responded, no. Her ears flitted backward as she heard their protests... and she wrinkled her muzzle at him.

They needed her. "Not yet." Too tiny. Too frail. She did not wish to tempt fate by revealing them to any part of the world, their father included. At only some odd hours old—or was it a day, now? no, light traced him...—she would not reveal them. "I am hungry," was about the only thing she revealed to him presently, and then she retreated backward. The new mother was quick about it, and coaxingly licked the back of Malrok. She listened still for her mate, not willing to lay and tend to the hungry Atuaserk until she heard him retreat or else acknowledge that he would not try this again, so she could rest and do her own duty to and for their children.