Hideaway Strath where secrets lie in the border fires

Hemlock watched the Banrion with worry; it was not written across her face or focused in her features and she spoke her concerns to no one. She knew that soon the Banrion would bring forth the next heirs of the Forest. Mentally Hemlock corrected herself, it was no longer the Forest they laid claim to - it was not their haven anymore. Bitterness welled in her heart and she watched for a moment at the little family. It would not have been hard to imagine Palisander carrying their daughter, destined to carry his brilliant orange eyes with perhaps the cream of her pelt. They would not have cast the pack from their Forest though. They would have stayed; would have been rooted to their future rather than causing chaos for all those around them. Hemlock had to change those thoughts. Palisander was in the ground and their chances were gone. 

She worried for the Fearghal matron. Her knowledge of medicine was enough that she could tell something was happening - if it was just prelabor or if she'd come into her own soon enough, Hemlock would keep a careful eye on her. Despite whatever she felt the Banrion did not show it, she lifted her head in song to make her proclamation over the lands. The Strath was theirs. It was theirs. Hemlock lifted her head and joined her song with those of her Family - again, claiming the lands on behalf of Teaghlaigh as she had in the Ravensblood so long ago. They were home.