Dawnlark Plains my love is like a tempest

Luckily, Grayday had a certain instinct for things like when a woman was about to give birth. Perhaps it was born of experience, or perhaps he was simply in tune with the scents his wife was giving off. Either way, he was not too worried as he made his way toward the source of her call. He hastened, of course, because he was at Catori's beck and call these days - to his pleasure, of course - but tried not to worry overmuch about what he might find at the end of the short trip. He'd know soon enough.

"Hey, ginger," he greeted, lowering himself and belly-crawling the last few feet toward his woman. Automatically, he leaned around her front to nose at the roundness of her sides, not letting up until one of his unborn children poked him in the nose for his efforts. "Everything alright?"