(m) across the caucasus

Thistle woke with a start to gaze down on her little ones gently snoring near her belly. They were adorable and she loved them emensely. She had no idea it was possible to love someone as much as she loved them. She tilted her ears back and gently licked a paw as she watched them snoozing. Her labor had not been overly difficult just tiring and painful. Though in truth as soon as she saw their little faces she had not remembered the pain, it was a distant memory forgotten and forlorn. Her husband had seemed pleased though she had not talked to him. Granted it had only been a day, but she found she longed to speak with him even if it were for a moment of his time and hers to steal a secret place and time.

As if conjured from her very mind she heard his heavily accented voice as it spoke down into the den. She shifted gently so as to not wake any little ones and with a small deft movement the deer hide was pulled over them, so they would not get cold.

She made her way to the very mouth of then den and peppered kisses down his muzzle and nipped gently as him. Hello Ragnar. She tilted her head and continued outside of the den, sitting down right on the outskirts of it, looking up at him with a small loving smile on her features.