Totoka River compose a poem, an honest verse of longing

[table width=85%][tr][td]

 
The atramentous healer’s outward carriage gave Olive the impression that she approved of her new name; and if Olive knew anything about Carina, it was that she had an authentic spirit and her actions belied what she truly felt within — which was more Olive could say about most wolves she met along this coast. A grin swept across the fae’s sliver of a muzzle and when the two women fell into another embrace [albeit side by side], Olive returned Carina’s enthusiasm a thousandfold. 

Olive swept her neck slowly, deliberately, to gaze at her belly as. Olive’s concave curves fitted Carina’s convex curves, like the black and the white halves that represented yin and yang. So close to childbirth was she that oftentimes her pup’s movements were completely visible from the outside — as they were at that moment. “They will come soon,” she stated plainly as her eyes trained her son [or daughter] as it rolled against the confines of her womb. “Will you stay close? I— I don’t trust anyone else.” It was a scary thought [the thought that she might need the assistance of a healer, in addition to her lack trust in her own family] so Olive was sure not to linger long on it. Carina had seen it all; it was likely she would understand her exact meaning without a diatribe on the inconcreteness of their reality. The pleasure of the moment had overtaken Olive and she was determined to enjoy it.

“In return for your kindness and unending generosity,” she chimed “may i offer you a humble star story?”

[/td][/tr][/table]