Nova Peak rumpus room

Masque found comfort in the familiarity of their reclaimed past; all Riley felt was an edging sense of claustrophobia. He missed Shadewood and its relative peace — here the foothills were laced with activity of other wolves, and he was reminded constantly of the reasons they’d left.

He kept these things to himself. It did no good to espouse negativity, and besides, given both their conditions it was safest for all of the lives in Masque’s belly to be on familiar footing.

Pulled from his thoughts by her trademark touch, Riley swept his gaze over Masque. It hurt him to see the thinning of her condition, and the swelling of her belly — both stark reminders of the influence he had on her body, for poor and for good. He couldn’t sustain them both in the Shadewood, and it came with a sense of bitterness.

Dragonspine. A new, fierce name for their hopefully new, fierce beginnings. They would carve a life for themselves here in the tall foothills, eek an existence out along the bony ridges of an ancient geological formation. Dragonspine. I like it. He announced, brushing his muzzle to her temple. But what about you, why not name them for you? After all, you carry them.