Aside from leaving her with pesky butterflies in her stomach, her visit to Donnelaith had reminded her to check out those caves that were hidden in her territory's western border - underneath Donnelaith, really, as the shelf carried the sentinels on its back as faithfully as it did the caves in its belly. She did not, however, think that the forest wolves would mind. There was no way to reach them from the woodland after all, and Doe was a woman on a mission.
Whether she was pregnant or not, the pack needed a dry place to pass the winter. The sand they lived in now was all very well in the summertime, and maybe even through most of the autumn. But if it stormed, if it rained, if a wave just a little too big reached their shores... their dens wouldn't stay very dry for long, and a wet pelt was akin to death in the wintertime - at least to her mind. She was sure that Skellige would have something to say against that, and she would be willing to hear. But aside from the danger, it just wouldn't be comfortable, and her puppies would not be growing up in such conditions. A stone den might be harder, might be draftier, but it would be better than wet.
So she scaled the rocks and found a narrow opening in the face of the cliff, about two wolves wide and one Doe Cairn tall. A glance behind her confirmed that it was not too far of a fall to shore - surely the sand would cushion a wolf from any major injury. They would have to be careful not to let the pups stray far, but she already felt that this would be safer than her den in the pampas grove.
Crouching slightly, she crept into the darkness, allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust. The inside was slightly less pleasing than the outside. The scent of rats and seagulls permeated the air, causing her to first cough, and then quickly lose her lunch. Her stomach had been unusually sensetive lately, but she counted it all as joy.
"I can make it better," she said to herself, peering through the gloom. If she spread sand over the floor, if she rubbed her scent over the walls, if she could clear some of the old rocks and bones to some forgotten corner, if she could chase out all the rats and birds... If, if, if... And her voice echoed back to her, small but resounding in the odd, oblong room. Make it better, better, better.
She could do it. She knew she could.
Whether she was pregnant or not, the pack needed a dry place to pass the winter. The sand they lived in now was all very well in the summertime, and maybe even through most of the autumn. But if it stormed, if it rained, if a wave just a little too big reached their shores... their dens wouldn't stay very dry for long, and a wet pelt was akin to death in the wintertime - at least to her mind. She was sure that Skellige would have something to say against that, and she would be willing to hear. But aside from the danger, it just wouldn't be comfortable, and her puppies would not be growing up in such conditions. A stone den might be harder, might be draftier, but it would be better than wet.
So she scaled the rocks and found a narrow opening in the face of the cliff, about two wolves wide and one Doe Cairn tall. A glance behind her confirmed that it was not too far of a fall to shore - surely the sand would cushion a wolf from any major injury. They would have to be careful not to let the pups stray far, but she already felt that this would be safer than her den in the pampas grove.
Crouching slightly, she crept into the darkness, allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust. The inside was slightly less pleasing than the outside. The scent of rats and seagulls permeated the air, causing her to first cough, and then quickly lose her lunch. Her stomach had been unusually sensetive lately, but she counted it all as joy.
"I can make it better," she said to herself, peering through the gloom. If she spread sand over the floor, if she rubbed her scent over the walls, if she could clear some of the old rocks and bones to some forgotten corner, if she could chase out all the rats and birds... If, if, if... And her voice echoed back to her, small but resounding in the odd, oblong room. Make it better, better, better.
She could do it. She knew she could.
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