Darker than blood

Tonravik's answer was not the one Kapvik wanted to hear, but the one he would have to settle with. Idly, he wondered if she knew the repercussions for pushing herself. Even walking up that steep incline they all trod was dicey. Maybe he was misjudging her. Maybe he was projecting his worries onto her. Or maybe his worries were well-founded and legitimate. Until the day comes where the Issumator becomes immobile with child, Kapvik would have to wait and see how she would abide giving birth. He hoped beyond hope that there would be no casualties. The births he has witnessed have imparted a dour outlook on the matter.
INDENT“Mm,” he grunted at Nanuk's words in agreement. Once Tonravik's near-black eyes went to a distant woodland – ostensibly called silata, whatever that meant – Kapvik released a reassuring croon. A mother will worry for her brood. Those benign and free of ill intent would be viewed the same as those who would inflict harm upon them. Perhaps not all the time but for as long as Tonravik was den ridden and throughout the whelp's childhood. He would ease up in greeting outsiders until they were a year old. Even then, attentiveness was of utmost precedence.
INDENT“Would you have us kill any foolish enough to cross our borders?” A weighty question. Tonravik has informed him of Hoshor Plains and their meddlesome associates, but what of those aligned elsewhere? Kapvik wanted to know what was and was not acceptable when it came to patrols and the like. Chances are he would meet those seeking to join with aggression regardless of what she deemed necessary or unnecessary. Blood would not be shed unless she wish it.