Bearclaw Valley reliance

 Although not particularly versed in the interpersonal dramas unfolding between the various members of Bearclaw Valley, Poet possesses a nose in fairly good working order. She knows immediately to what Sif is referring, and her lips twitch faintly in the corners at the innocent question. Perhaps it is for the best, come to think of it, Poet has stayed uninvolved. She's not exactly a midwife.

To Sif she replies, "not sick," returning the nuzzle affectionately. "It is .. the time of year when wolves," hm, how to plainly phrase this, "they ... decide to make babies." How familiar Sif is with the process, Poet doesn't really know. The girl is a little younger than she, and Poet wonders if she's even experienced a heat of her own yet (come to think of it, Poet wonders when her own heat will come this year and what to do with it; at the temple, made of mostly priestesses, there hadn't been any real need to sequester away...)