Horizon Ridge Nothing can stop us, even the night that falls all around us

Thistle asked the obvious question and Pied answered, "I—we—plan to call one Saēna. I've toyed with the idea of calling one Brooklyn, after my father—Brook Lynn if it's a girl," she continued. "And Kisu's tossed a few of his own ideas into the pot. I believe he wants to name his first son Pura." Pied smiled as she spoke each of the names, as it made the whole thing feel more real.

The Gamma was about to say something else when a wave of nausea washed over her. As her stomach gurgled, a grimace suddenly twisted her mouth and she shot Thistle an apologetic glance. "Sorry, I'm feeling a little sick again..." she murmured, her mouth filling with saliva. She didn't want to throw up in front of her companion, so she preemptively rose and moved off a few feet, facing away from Thistle.

Her stomach settled a little and the imminent need to vomit passed. Still, her insides felt sour and all Pied wanted to do was head back to her dean and lie down. She and Thistle had only just begun talking and she felt bad for having to excuse herself so abruptly but, even as another wave of sickness began to crest, she knew she simply couldn't linger here.

"I'm sorry, Thistle, but I need to go lie down," Pied said, frowning lightly at her pale pack mate. "I'll see you later. Sorry," she repeated before turning and slowly picking her way back toward the lair, unaware that, if she saw Thistle again in the future, it would not be in the capacity of pack mates.