Moonspear the present time of restlessness and wake up calls

Sequestered away from most of the pack, days had passed and she was finally getting her feet back beneath herself, however slow the going and how tiresome a small pile rapidly growing of newborns could be. Charon kept her fed and in turn she kept the pups fed, functioning, and from making noise at all hours of the day. It didn't leave her a lot of space or time to mend or relax on her own, and for the second time, she felt herself fighting off the edges of a low feverish-feeling all afternoon as the daytime temperature climbed with the humidity. A highly unpleasant combination, she had decided swiftly.

Panting, uncomfortable, and a little bit annoyed with herself, she'd gone to the creek for another dip to get her fur damp and for a big drink; that had helped considerably last time, and now she had to get back to the puppies fast. No matter how short the distance, she didn't like straying very much (even with Charon on guard), and she b-lined it to the den, wet coat and all.

She ducked through the threshold and found them where she had left them tucked in, touching them each with a featherlight nose to check. When none roused immediately, thankfully, she spun away and took up a spot in the den's door—well enough in the cover of it to enjoy the cool shaded earth, but still able to see out easily and get some fresh air at the same time. The horizon looked like rain, and she wanted it to get here soon.