Stavanger Bay no thanks I already 8

There was a brief pause during which Doe lauded little Chusi for her tale, but soon enough, she returned to the conversation at hand, and the dark creature before her. Doe's yellow eyes traced the flare of whiskers, the thick cowl of her throat, the slvete stocking'd legs, the moon-touched ash in in her eyes. For a long time, she stayed silent, measuring. Part of her had forgotten there'd been a conversation at all, while another held on to the silvered woman's words, cherishing that another so close knew what it meant to be alive.

It was a bad omen, in her homeland, to speak of a litter not yet born. But they were not in the red plains, and something in Kitku's eyes seemed sorrowful and uncertain. If she needed joy, needed something to celebrate, Doe would grant her this knowledge. She would speak of the babes she knew to be in her womb, but only this once, and she would speak of them as the gift that they were - a precious secret.

"I will bring new young into the world," she confided, certain now that it was the truth. "At the beginning of winter."