Dragoncrest Cliffs Our hearts beat as one, butterfly

Even if the laugh felt forced and weak, it is still a laugh. Wildfire seems to know the source of the odd feeling and Thuringwethil can only take it as it comes. She’d gone through a lot during the pregnancy and expectations were high. They’d lost a child in the first night but they have four healthy ones tucked away in their mother’s breast. There’d been a level of disconnect before the pregnancy on her end but having spent the last twenty four hours with them, there’s a fondness she can’t explain. There’s nothing much to them other than sleeping and eating but they are hers. Theirs.

“There isn’t much to them yet,” she murmurs as she puts her head to the floor, her nose inches from them. The scent of milk and puppy breath and saliva fills her nose and she wrinkles the skin that tops her muzzle.