Dawnlark Plains you can tell the lighthouse from the sun

Very gingerly, Coelacanth lifted the iron-rich portion of meat between her jaws and approached the den, nosing it insistently toward her cousin with a beseeching whine. “Eat,” she urged via a pointed stare and a gentle kunik. She settled in alongside the Spiritwalker, tucking her body along the taller wolf’s spine without asking permission, and began grooming tenderly at her sister-cousin’s nape. It would, perhaps, become clear to Catori after a moment that the offered comfort was meant to be mutually healing — Coelacanth was visibly, deeply troubled, and her unease betrayed itself in the fierce arrhythmia of her body’s naturally elegant cadence.

Aside from the odd physical restlessness that continued to keep her heart drumming at an uncomfortably quick pace, Seelie bore within her limpid cerulean eyes a harrowing tangle of shame and self-doubt. She fidgeted periodically before pillowing her muzzle across Catori’s withers with a distressed little whine. Things with Komodo were confusing and frustrating and she was worried about Stockholm and Moorhen and everything was crashing down around her ears and what was she going to do — how could she ever hope to create something as perfect as these three small miracles, and if she did somehow manage it, how could she protect them and keep them from the same hurt she’d seen in all of her lambs thus far? A soft, fretful whine stirred timorously in her throat.

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The cousins got to talking, and the Spiritwalker, as always, made short work of Coelacanth’s worries. Out of respect to his Morningside family, Seelie didn’t mention Aditya’s confession — and out of respect to the Earthstalker, Seelie didn’t mention what had occurred in Rainsong Labyrinth. Though Catori was aware of the tumult in the little sheepdog’s heart, she couldn’t have known exactly why it was there — Seelie had always had a secret world of her own. Even though she had overcome her impediment enough to speak now (albeit in fractured, stilted fits and starts) she continued to keep a lot of what she felt and thought locked away. What she came away from the conversation with was that she wanted to go home and have children with Stockholm; that she had been wrong to run away, but she was a Corten, and itchy paws were par for the course; and that she was fit to lead despite her soft personality. Seelie played with her small cousins and fussed over Catori until the night sky took on a predawn glow, and then they both took a nap.