Sun Mote Copse ghenna

Giana's mistrust faded at the calm, friendly atmosphere, and though she didn't look at the new woman until far after her sisters pulled in beside her; when Honey's nervous voice rose, Gia's stormy eyes fell on her with a quiet, reserved friendliness. Under Eshamun's joyful gaze, the ivory woman could be nothing but kind, welcoming. 

As much as she wanted to blame her hormones, the truth was that Giana Angelo had never been very friendly, or very trusting. Those that'd been here when she'd bumbled her way, starving, to the borders, those who'd helped her and gave her a new life: those wolves were as dear to her heart as her own children, both born and growing. It would take a little while for the rust-crowned woman to truly get used to having Honey around, but in time, she would. 

For now, she was quiet, listening until it was apparent the time for her to speak had come. Another thing Giana never had been was quiet, and she didn't keep The Malkaria waiting long. From where she was sitting tall and proudly, tail wagging behind her, she announced her latest discovery.

                     "After my night to the shore, I am most definitely carrying, and I will give one of them at birth to Molech. The morning sickness is hell on my recovery, but every moment is worth it."

It was true, though: Giana's bones could barely be seen through her pelt -- easily felt, though -- and she was healthy as she'd ever been. She couldn't stop eating!

Speaking of.... Eshamun urged them to eat, and at this the rust-faced femme stood, padding forward with a happily swaying tail and waiting her turn.