Stavanger Bay The murdered Red Herring

Whoops. Doe is not pregnant (though her teats are very noticeably saggy) - another wolf was and Doe will be indisposed with the pups for a little bit, now.

The dusky woman's tail whisked in acknowledgement as he mentioned Arturo's pack. She had known, but she was glad to be introduced to him all the same. She knew, of course, that it was conventional to offer one's own name in response to such a introduction, but Doe rarely remembered to see to that formality. It never seemed like quite the right moment.

She tried this time, though. "Hello, Palisander; I am Doe," she chirped, tail wagging once more - but all levity ended when the wolf's next words fell from his mouth. Doe listened long enough to understand that Furiosa was dead before all else lost meaning to her. Like when Qilaq had crushed Hind's grandaughter under her paw, the red woman felt an unpleasant twinge in her chest, low in her belly. Her face visibly fell, and she stared helplessly at the strange male, unable to male sense of the garbled string of words that followed.

"Osa is dead?" she repeated, her voice shrunken from a chirp to a whisper.