Blackfeather Woods Yes, I am the father of those Squealing Furry Patatoes

Jumping at a chance to have these two work out their differences, aha. If that’s possible~

 
There had been a shift to things, a strange vibe in the air. He recognized it, allowing the feeling in the pit of his stomach to drive his actions. There was something wrong, but also not wrong, though that made little sense. He felt the urge to check things out, to check on the queen, but refused to go empty handed—so to speak. As quickly as he could, the male tracked and killed a hare, grasping it firmly between his jaws before heading in the direction of the priestess’ den. The closer he got, the more prominent the scent of birth become. He was certain, then, that the woman's newest litter had entered the world. When he’d met her at the borders, he assumed it would be happening soon, but had never asked to confirm how far along she’d been at the time. No matter, it wasn’t of any concern now, considering the deed had been completed.
 
Kove had scented the tank, too, but that did not veer him from his path. He continued until he could see the den and its stone-like guard, stopping a decent length away. The Inuit recalled how he’d felt about others getting too close to his den after his own children had been born, and didn’t wish to ignite the same feeling in Burke. Dropping the hare, he offered a nod of greeting to the other, but kept silent for a few moments. The last time he’d seen the large man, they hadn’t exactly gotten off to a good start. Accusations had been made, and though the ghost had apologized for jumping without looking, it’d been obvious that hadn’t been enough. “Burke,” he greeted, vice low so as not to disturb those within the den. “Are they well?” Having been around during the Queen’s first litter, he couldn’t help but feel a growing interest towards the newest additions to Blackfeather.