Blackfeather Woods leavin' traces of us down the boulevard

After all the nausea, Shivali has taken to eating most of her meals in the evening. By then, her stomach often settles and she can eat whatever she finds. This evening, however, she doesn’t catch the rabbit she’d been chasing and the rabbit’s den she’d been hovering has long since been empty. The few rabbits still using it have been snatched from their homes already and those remaining have likely relocated.
 
Her stomach grumbles, churning over as her failure is evident. Her energy has been zapped, too, and she begins to meander in search of the nearest cache when she hungers for the taste of warm meat.

The Night rarely suffered hunger. She was the filler of caches, not the filler of her own stomach after all. It was almost time for the moon to rise anyway, which brought with it a time of solitude and quiet in which she could think clearly and wander wherever. She watched the lilac sky turn darker by the minute and a faint smile settled on her star kissed face. This was home, underneath the sky.

Her mismatched eyes shot to the side at the sound of meandering footsteps. She debated in her head whether to follow her companion or stay in the bubble the approaching night provided for her. Her curiosity won. She followed the sound, approaching slowly but steadily the female who had succeeded in keeping Nyx from her usual routine.

It takes a while for her to notice the oncoming footfalls, distracted by her own thoughts. But when the crunch is close enough, one ear flicks back in the girl’s direction. Shivali doesn’t come to a full stop but her pace does slow down, the footsteps becoming louder, and she slowly turns to see the freckled daughter of their leader. She’s spent time with her once before, a while ago, but that was before the initial worry of pregnancy had been on her mind. The possibility, sure, but she could still get away with it. Now? Astrid won’t be able to tell and she’s at least thankful for that. Licking her lips, she offers the girl a greeting chuff. ”Kâven?” she calls back.

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.

Shivali frowns when the girl tells her no. Her lips twist and she looks away, fighting against the urge to take the answer for what it is and leave, but thankfully her hunger isn’t ravenous enough to do that. Instead, she offers a quiet oh and glances away. There isn’t much she knows about her, other than shared comradery on the borders (and in the war, differently) but she’s learned that does not mean the same for the wolves here.
 
Sometimes Iliksis is hard to get out of her mind.  
 
The woman licks her lips as the silence lingers between them, having never been in this situation. There’s never been anther she’s cared for, let alone been with—pregnant with--and considering he has children with other woman?
 
“Do you have siblings?” she decides to ask, not realizing the girl isn’t as fluent in her native tongue as she initially believes, so she offers a smile and gentle wag of her tail.

Unfortunately, the child born of the Night had not been alone at birth. The beings spawned with her held a place in her abandoned heart, of course, but she couldn't say she remembered them well. Not to mention the older litter her father had spawned long before they had even been conceived. Still, none had stayed around. The child of Night had been the only one to remain within the ranks of the pack she was born in.

I did. She answered grimly. Why do you ask? She followed up her answer with her question. Perhaps something was bothering the other. Surely it wasn't pity from seeing Nyx alone all the time. As far as she knew, no one had ever pitied her. She was stronger than she appeared.