Hushed Willows know the differences between the walkers and the sleepers

Maybe it was in Octavia's good fortune Stark had spent the last six months alone. If she was awkward, he didn't notice it, and her quick scrambling into the conversation wasn't noticed. Her explanation of the process and the children did make him chuckle, though the pup gave her another nip it seemed and Stark tilted his head before he sank slowly to his side, back towards the entrance of her little nook. 

He didn't notice her sudden sadness and couldn't guess that his comments might have been a little...ill timed. There was no way of knowing, after all, how many pups she had birthed although he had assumed that Tambourine was the only one to make it. He knew each litter his mother had produced had multiple pups, after all. "Some getting more favorable seasons to do it in - yours should have been perfect, but the damn bugs ruined it." Stark lamented. "He'll appreciate you more, for it," He added softly, looking the pup over as his mother tended to him. "I don't doubt there's a number of folks who will be there to help make sure he does."

It was then he noticed the grounds were fairly lumpy, not as smoothed and well worn as the other areas of the Crook. "You should get a decorator in here." He hummed out. "I'll see if I can find an old fur anywhere - maybe make it more cozy for you and Tambourine."