Swiftcurrent Creek [m] Atlantic

He was insatiable, it was true. Having broken away from the reserved adult he had been, Njal was now only hungry. The way she crooned for him wasn't helping the situation, but he complied, if only so that they could be close. It was not the manner in which the Delta desired her, but Njal returned to the earth. He perched beside Tuwawi with his shoulder pressed against her own, but before long he shifted so that he could hold her in a wolfish hug - one leg draped over her side, resting his paw upon her belly. Their children would grow there one day. Njal didn't realize that the belly and the womb were different things because he is a stupid man, but, whatever.

Reaching with his snout, he inhaled the musk of her fur, and rested his face upon her scruff; similar to how it had been done during their love-making, except now he was half beached upon the soil. "Good morning," he murmured softly, his voice tired and worn despite the lack of use - ragged perhaps by the grunting and the yowling, which no doubt kept the entire pack awake (they really weren't very good at this).