Swiftcurrent Creek boys

Tuwawi was slow to emerge - first her head, still dusted with sleep, then a vibrant red ruff. Her shape had changed considerably since their last encounter, Bazi noticed. She was round and full, and it made her look both vulnerable and infinitely stronger. The youth had never known a pregnant wolf personally, having been born in the last of her parents' numerous litters.

"Present for you," she replied, smiling almost shyly. There was something maternal about the way Tuwawi conducted herself, even before the seeds in her belly had taken root, that made Bazi regress. The youth moved to the front of the folded skin, grabbed it between her teeth and shuffled - bum first - toward the Creek's first mother. "To line the den, for you and the pups," she explained when the two females were side by side. The skin was large, and had been lifted from its owner with great care - there was barely a single hole, and the pelt had been thoroughly cleaned.