Ravensblood Forest convalescence

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It seemed that the queen had no desire to speak about that subject for long and Olive found that she was relieved. The topic of their plight had been belabored and beaten to death since their arrival at Ravensblood Forest and Olive, for one, was amenable to the idea of dropping it completely. It was finished, wasn’t it? She had traded the delicateness of her virginal visage,  which [until recently] had been untouched and unmarred by the roughhoods of  life… though not entirely by choice. No, the hulking spectre of a woman — the matriarch of the blackfeather fuckers —  had not given her a choice at all. But it was done; finished; their debts paid. 

“Yes, I am” Olive sung sweetly, looking back and reaching out her muzzle to smooth the thinning fur of her belly.  It was likely only a week longer until they rushed to greet the world, and Olive was pleased she could birth them in the peaceful seclusion of Ravensblood Forest, under the protection and jurisdiction of her family. There had been so many moments during the past month that she did not believe it would be so. “I have never been a mother before,” she continued, an earnest smile twisting her lips. At two and a half yeas old, she hadn’t had much time to try; not that had stopped the queen who sat before her, scarcely a year old.  “but, from the stories, I understand it to be simply splendid.” 

Olive blinked big, moony hormonal eyes at Lotte. If she was going to have any hope in returning back to Arturo’s favor, she would sooner need to win over his child queen. Here she was, outstretching her an olive branch [lol] — how could she not take it? “How lucky are we to experience this journey together?” the mother-to-be chimed brightly, hoping to return the sense of closeness that they both so desired, yet seemed so elusive.

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