Broken Antler Fen Michael is preparing for the birth of a watermelon with Dwight.

@Roswell? @Jasmine? @Diantha? All 3?

Out of respect for the still-evident chasm between herself and her little siblings, Lilitu didn't venture close to the den often. Even when they'd be moved to the rendezvous, she'd give them space. 

That didn't, however, quell her curiosity—it only grew it by leaps and bounds.

She'd look for them on patrols, or hunts through the territory. She'd sit in the shade beneath the changing colors of deciduous trees, hoping they'd make the first move. She wanted to see if she could see herself, or her mother, or Arielle, in any of them.

She wanted her family back. . .and they were all she had left of Ibis.

Today, Lilitu was within shouting distance of Maia's den, nose wrinkled as she removed rotted bits of prey from a cache. It had been a good start to fall, and they had a nice surplus of food. God willing it lasted through the winter, she thought.

roswell slept in. after days of rising with the sun to walk patrols — confidence bolstered by the fact that he believes he's done well so far with two intercepting of strangers at the borders beneath his belt — the tiredness seeps heavy into his bones and he does not fight it. though the attempt to rouse himself to go on a morning patrol was there, he gave into the desire to catch a few extra z's.

when he does finally wake he feels groggy but refreshed. he takes his time stretching and when he emerges from the family den, he gives his pelage — growing heavier and courser in preparation for the coming winter months — a shake to dispel any lingering debris. a large yawn splits his face and he blinks groggily a few times before his champagne golden gaze falls upon the woman lingering nearby, weeding out a food cache as he begins to head towards the borders.

uh, hi. he broaches, curiosity. you need help? he inquires, though admittedly sorting out rotten meat does not sound appealing.

Jasmine was out and about already, unable to sit still since her encounter with the wilds beyond their claim. Her short adventure had terrified her, but had simultaneously filled her with a thirst for knowing more about the wider world that spread beyond them. She understood her limitations just as much as she hated to admit them. And so, in a vie to overcome her weaknesses - namely, her small and childlike nature - she committed herself to a rigorous routine of rising when the adults rose, and sometimes sleeping well past when they bedded down to rest.

She noticed her brother had taken to a similar routine, often crossing paths with him when the sun was still low. Which is why his presence so near the den surprised her today. Lilitu's even more. She had seen the woman hanging around the territory, but never so close to home.

Curious, Jasmine strolled up to fill one of the spaces between her brother and older sister. Her ears caught Roswell's question, just as her nose caught wind of what she imagined was about to be Lilitu's answer. "Oh, gross! Tag me out!" She wrinkled her nose at the odour and pawed at her snout. "Smells gnarly, whatever the heck you're doing."

A boy showed up first, and the sight of him caught her breath and heart at once. He looked like Arielle, and she stared at him for a moment before shaking her head, and then nodding—and she realized the gestures were at odds.

Sorry, she said, and smiled. Only if you want. It's nasty business.

A brother? Perhaps. And then another girl arrives and she, too, looks similar—

Lilitu decided, then and here, to let blood ties go. Whoever was who, whatever had happened, the wolves of Brecheliant were family. They all were united under one allegiance.

She chuckled at the remark, grimacing. It's not fun at all, she informed the pups, eyes twinkling. But the rotten prey will spoil all our food if we let it sit.

An idea occurred to her. Have you heard about the story of the 'ghost rabbit'? she asked, looking at the young wolves.