Blackfeather Woods leavin' traces of us down the boulevard

Nyx wished she could worry about being pregnant, but the heat had not blessed her this year. Not that she had anyone to father the children, but what if she was not receptive at all? Her dreams of granting the woods her own spiderlings would forever be gone then. She'd go back to stealing the young kids she found on her travels, she supposed.

Her ears flicked, recognizing the language her father spoke and wondered if this was all the other spoke. Auka. She answered with a shake of her head. kavânguvuk. She added, just to make herself clear.