Sun Mote Copse yellow ranger

Eshamun's gentle teasing helped smooth out the stutter of embarrassment Ragna felt. It was true that she had very little mastery over her words, but she was generally able to filter out the truly foolish before speaking. She was quickly diverted by the size of Eshamun's stomach. She had been around pregnant wolves before, but most of them had the stocky build of the vikings. Eshamun was slight and angular, and the roundness of her belly clashed with the shape of her frame. This is for you, she said, nosing the fish closer. I thought it might be hard for you to hunt.

Curiosity that bordered on reverence for the little lives growing inside of Eshamun burned within Ragna. Have you thought of names? she asked. The faltering of Eshamun's smile was curious, but Ragna knew that childbirth was a painful process. Perhaps Eshamun felt some fear of that pain.