Lost Creek Hollow pepsi can

She felt like a damn duck.  It seemed to her that her belly had quadrupled in size and it seemed completely inplausible that there was anything in her stomach at all.  There were too many rowdy babies in there for her to want to eat.  Fortunately she was so obsessed with nesting that she barely had any time to think about her lack of appetite.  Which brings us to the present...

Their den wasn't big enough.  Harlyn had absolutely no doubt in her mind that it was just too small.  How she and Mordecai even fit in it, she had no idea.  Once they had thirty or forty puppies in there?  There was no way.  The druid strode purposefully out of the den after making her claims to Mordecai who took it in stride considering it was the 15th or 16th time she'd thrown this particular fit.  Likely he knew perfectly well that after she roved around the Hollow for a couple hours and deemed everything unsuitable, she'd come home with another mouthful of bedding, stick it in the corner, and take a nap in perfect contentment as though she'd never in her life been anything less than completely elated with their perfect, cozy little den.

Harlyn scented him before she saw him.  She hadn't been to see him yet today.  Guilt replaced her nesting instincts as she turned his steps to follow after him.  She saw instantly that he was tense with pain and anger as she approached him.  She frowned.  "Luke," she said sternly as she walked towards him, her belly swinging awkwardly between her legs.