Stavanger Bay Stranger Things

So she was a mother - or she had been. Doe didn't know how it worked, once the babes were grown. A soft oh fell from her lips at Furiosa's explaination. She'd worried the same thing about the sand, but it'd seemed better than nothing. Better than stone. Osa's suggestion, however, seemed much more fitting. Feathers - Doe loved them. Loves to roll in them, chew on them, smell them before rolling in or chewing on them.

The words were on the tip of her tongue when her enthusiastic friend overtook her, all teeth and tongue and dark, glittering eyes. A quiet eep! escaped the scrappy shewolf as Furiosa seemed to surround her, but surprise only lasted a moment before her own desires swept her away. Doe preened whatever rough furs were available to her, whining encouragingly in the back of her throat. In the pale wolf's embrace she wiggled and squirmed, pushing herself against the larger, stronger body of her lover.

Will Szymon love her, too? she thought to herself, feeling a little guilty, now. Doe knew that they would have to meet, even if Furiosa wouldn't be taking up with them in their little sand den - even if she wouldn't sleep here in the cave through the long winter nights. If she took up space in Doe's heart, Szymon must meet her.

"Osa," she sighed, drawing away, "these babes have a father. Could you accept him?"