Witch's Marsh going on tilt

With the disappearance of Aaron and his wolves in the Emberwood came calm. Saena was, as always, agitated—the young female didn't think she could feel much of anything else these days—but she was able to relax when she sought to. By now, the success of her conception was undeniable as nausea gave way to cravings, which gave way to more nausea, which gave way to needing to pee every thirty or so minutes, and every day was a rollercoaster of emotions. She wasn't showing yet, but it was a slight tenderness in her underbelly, where her teats had become ever-so-slightly engorged, that tipped her off.

Knowing it did little to keep her bound at home, though, much to Reek's certain despair. She had taken no fewer than three trips to Emberwood in the days following the march to ensure they were gone for good, recklessly putting herself and their unborn pups in harm's way, but she was confident in her relative safety and had been lucky enough to get away each time. Her recklessness would die out soon enough, but not today, for today she was wandering just beyond the borders of her pack, seeking some fresh air after a fresh bout of vomiting in the trees.

She wasn't expecting to see Luke, so when she spotted the white wolf on the horizon, her thoughts didn't first go to her friend. She stiffened ever-so-slightly, poised on the balls of her feet, and squinted until she picked up the faintest trace of blue. Her face brightened and had she a tail it would have wagged as she took a handful of steps toward him, then paused as crushing guilt slammed into her breast for the way she had led him on by giving into him, and the way she would do it again, do anything he wanted truly, if not for the churn in her gut telling her that she had new life within.