Phoenix Maplewood This one's a contradiction because of how happy it sounds

When Saena sequestered herself to the den, her pregnancy drawing to a close and motherhood dawning, the white wolf went in search of food. To his disappointment, the maplewood featured no prominent sources of water, and not wanting to stray from his new territory, he was forced to look to small game instead of fish. That it was a fresh rabbit trail he encountered first dictated what he would hunt, and hunt he did. It took him the better part of an hour to secure a catch.

His approach was cautious, not knowing if the pups had been born and not knowing how Saena would receive him under these circumstances. Yet as he, one tentative step at a time, drew near, his ears swivelled forward to the softest, squeakiest sounds, and soon his nose caught the whiff of them too. He was struck not by feeling, but by the complete lack of it. His old self would have been warmed endlessly to hear and smell the newborns, but he now... was decidedly impassive.

He felt only the same sense of protectiveness and affection for Saena that he had always felt, laced with a sentiment of duty. He laid down near the den entrance with the rabbit dropped in front of him.