Dragoncrest Cliffs A million stars

She’s given the choice to name one of them. Artaax had been previously decided, as some of the others, but the weight of his feels different. She doesn’t have time to consider what may or may not be a good name for the boy. Thuringwethil lowers her nose and puts a leathery touch gently on his rear and breathes. They are but only minutes old; just a little while, they hadn’t been here at all, and now they had this little bundle to care for.

“Robin,” she says after a moment, picking up her head and trying to adjust to a new position so that she can run her tongue across the top of her mate’s head. There may have been conflict from the beginning, even now she won’t say the air is free of tension, but she knows one thing: “I am so proud of you.”