Blackfeather Woods does the lighthouse shine to seek, or to be found?

With all the commotion going on around her, she can’t figure it out. Her caretaker brushes past her and she barely feels the touch. The crushed puppy is moved (though she isn’t certain who’s done what) and she scrambles in the dirt a little. Just a few moments ago, she’d clung to Relmyna’s side and accepted the help of Tahani, but all she wants now is to be left alone. Whatever is happening to her, she doesn’t want them to see, doesn’t want them to see what she’s capable of. The weight of the child’s death is wrought across her face and she withdraws from both of them.
 
Her tongue slips from her muzzle, panting heavily as she shuffles awkwardly to all fours. The pain in her abdomen reminds her she can’t do much but a shudder takes over, leaving her trembling.
 
“He s-s-said He’d h-hurt an’ k-k-kill them,” she says quietly, defeated. She can’t put up a fight against him, no matter how much of her strength she’s gotten back since her time with these strange wolves. Her mouth parts as if she’s going to say something but a strangled cry escapes her, half of her heart hurting and the other half from pain in her lower half. The makeshift hole in the ground is abandoned and she takes a few steps away, dropping to the ground when she can’t stand it anymore, can’t ignore the signs of labor as it takes over despite her efforts. A third child is born upon the ground in the dirt and leaves. Ocracoke bends over and tears it from the sac when she locates it but does not do anything else beyond a single lick across its face, listening to the squeak it makes.
 
Lacking much sense of direction, Ocracoke takes the child in her jaws less than gracefully and still attached to the afterbirth. Her head turns quickly in one direction, swinging the child in her grasp. The new mother whines, jaw tense as drool pools around the squirming newborn.