Hushed Willows blue, green, or black; smooth or mountainous; that ocean is not silent

Olive was languishing in the last trimester of her pregnancy, knowing that everything, everywhere was as fine and fine could be. Long gone were the times of wanting and worries; now was the time for gratitude and contentedness. She stayed close to her two wives when she wished for company and bade herself the freedom to leave when she wished to be alone. Amongst that and her ever-present desire to swim and feast upon meat as would a normal carnivore [the only urge that ever overtook her when she was pregnant], she was kept rather busy.

She was walking aimlessly amongst the willows, as she do, when she came across Cassioepia’s trail. Happiness lit every nerve ending in her body as a skip lighted her step and she made haste towards her star-speckled daughter. “Cassiopeia! What a lovely surprise,” she called out when the rump of the dark girl came into sight; Olive quickly overtook her and came up beside her, planting a familiar kiss behind Cass’s ear as she did so. “How are you?” she questioned, Cassiopeia’s scent not yet strong enough to write the story on its own. The druid smiled at this coincidence, loving that her daughter felt safe enough within the sanctuary to come and go as she pleased, like a second home.

i’ve always dreamt of olive being a grammie ♡ thank you for this gift!

Cassiopeia did not outwardly express her happiness as Olive did, but the mother knew that deep inside, beside her gruff, single-word greeting, there was happiness at seeing each other once more. Out of all her children, Cassiopeia was the only one to ever return, so that surely meant something.

But this day’s visit was not a joyful one, Olive realized as the star-stained girl expressed her concerns. The druid stopped her strut, canting her head towards Cassiopeia in earnest. She took health quite seriously, especially when they came from one as tight-lipped [and as dear to her] as Cassiopeia. “I’m glad you’ve come,” she said matter-of-factly. If Cassiopeia didn’t want to wait to get to the point, then neither did she. “What seems to be the matter?”

Olive’s expression grew stern as Cassiopeia listed her symptoms. Her daughter felt lethargic, achey and nauseous — all signs of the flu, or perhaps something worse. The nurse listened astutely, nodding every other moment as she gave Cassiopeia is once-over, a visual inspection. This yielded nothing out of the ordinary [although the mother was surprised at how many scars littered her daughters body, carefully hidden by her dark fur] so Olive leaned in close and inspected her by scent. Still, nothing super strange.

The druid pursed her lips and bit at the inside of her cheek. Just because Olive couldn’t find anything outwardly wrong with her daughter, but that didn’t mean the experience of her illness wasn’t real. Pain and nausea were something that needed to be dealt with, for the sufferers sake. “You don’t smell or appear to be diseased,” she said, not in disbelief. "and you’re much too young for most other ailments.” Not to say it didn’t happen, but it was unlikely. Then, the thought struck her — Cassiopeia was a young girl no more. She had met a man, she had disclosed in their last meeting. This opened up a new realm of possibilities that, quick frankly, delighted the druid.

Unable to help the smile from spreading across her lips, she questioned “Did you cycle this year?” and raised a motherly eyebrow. Now was not the time to be shy.

Olive sensed the shame that came to her daughter — perhaps the midwife shouldn’t have been so brazen, but it gave her the answers she needed to know. She played right into the overzealous, kind-of-intrusive mother trope! A huge smile spread across her face, and though she did not want to make any quick assumption and throw her daughter for a loop, Olive knew immediately what this way.

She raised an eyebrow at the star-spangled girl nonetheless. “Daughter,” she addressed. “You did not do a good job,” though she kept her tone buoyant and light. “Because I do believe you are pregnant!” the words nearly burst from her mouth, giving Cassiopeia a sniff to confirm. The scent was light, but now that she knew to search for it, it was clearly there.

She attempted to stymie her excitement, for stoic Cassiopeia’s stake. Still, she danced her front paws against the earth and mused laughingly “Can you imagine, you a mother and me, a grandmother?” and turned to her daughter. “We must celebrate!” For this was a good thing, even if the father was truly a good-for-nothing who hung out far on the coast.