Indeed, Tuwawi's sleeping duty has been doubled as the growing life within her sapped their mother's energy like nothing else. That, coupled with a still-churning stomach, left the fireblood nearly incapacitated and den-ridden. Though she had hoped to be an asset to her pack in the first few weeks of her pregnancy, it had become clear this would not come to pass. Everything — it was all new, to the wolf who had until recently fancied herself the picture of youth and vitality. Times had changed. She had grown up. Now, new responsibilities heralded their arrival with a swift lurch of the gut... and there was nothing the she-wolf could do but be wracked by it.

Though her rest was deep, it was fleeting. Every now and then a change in her body wrenched the dozing wolf awake, only to be pacified moments later and allow a few more minutes of sleep. Today, she was tired, and the Sveijarn burrow had become a place of comfort and security. Njal sometimes laid with her, though he was usually off patrolling or hunting to feed the pack and his wife. When the shuffling of footprints echoed inside the den, Tuwawi's ears pricked, half-expecting the noises to belong to her husband. However, a distinctly feminine voice called. Tuwawi? it queried, beckoning the ember from her hiding place below the grove of beeches. At first, she did not stir... (thinking perhaps if I just laid here the voice will go away...) though on second thought, Tuwawi realize the voice to be Bazi's, and she immediately knew to care for this particular company.

"Mm?" she mummeled as Tuwawi's figure unfurled itself, slinking out the mouth of her carefully built home. Though the changes in her figure were small, they were visible. Her once narrow trunk had thickened, and the small of her belly had become rounded in a suspicious place. Her sooty tail swished between her hocks, pleased to see her pale pack-sister had the mind to pay her a visit. Grey eyes lingered on the heaping pelt at her feet before flickering back to Bazi's youthful face. "Bazi... hi," she said, taking a seat outside the entrance to her den, "what brings you this way?"

It was a funny thing... the image of age and maternity. To Tuwawi, she still felt like that lost youth sprawled across one of Seahawk's cliff sides, or the roguish and scrappy urchin in Kindred's ranks. How bizarre it was to be on the flip side of age... three years old and entering the prime of her life with a mate at her side and children along the way. Never did she think such rich fortunes would be hers, especially coming from a childhood so rife with misery. Tuwawi knew, as well, to keep those important to her close... and Bazi was swiftly becoming a dear friend to the ember. Connections like these were the lifeblood to any family circle.

Tuwawi's face glowed when Bazi revealed her present. It was fine gift; a handsome pelt carefully extracted with the finest craftsmanship... and honestly, she had never laid eyes on anything like it. No one had ever though to preserve the skin in such a way... to provide warmth and comfort for the growing mother and her children-to-be. Truly, it was a generous offering, and her head canted as she admired it. "Bazi... this is wonderful. It is too much," she gushed to the alabaster youth, wondering how many hours had gone into its preparation. It would be worlds more comfortable than the prickly hay from Wapun Meadow that currently lined her home.

"Thank you... it means a lot," she finally submitted, at a loss for better words to express the true gratitude she felt. Gingerly, she swept her branded muzzle through Bazi's mane, finding comfort in her presence. "I am sure the children will love it too... they grow every day," a wry grin suggested uncertainty within her tone regarding the development of the unborn resting within her body. Everything was new to the fireblood, and every act of thoughtfulness from her pack mates helped ease her troubles by a degree. A strange anxiety accompanied these physical changes and she could only hope everything was going alright according to nature's plan.