Dragoncrest Cliffs don't be that way

portia was pregnant, and dalia wondered what that meant. every day still she received praise from her mother-- during lessons, espeically. dalia was not unskilled, she would never discredit herself, but what use were those skills when wolves like portia and rose existed in drageda? she was incredibly useless. she was merely a soft-spoken version of her mother, drown out by the southern charm and-- well, bluntly-- her more likable personality. would there be another version of portia? delicate, with a thin, sharp face and little speckles across her nose? would dalia, finally, be cast aside? or would portia's collection of precious, trophy-daughters grow?

dalia didn't know. 

but there was no denying how excited she was for her mother and father, how excited she was to have siblings. they'd be better than sirio and her cousins, and far cuter. she was concerned, of course, but not nearly as concerned as she was happy. she was having an identity crisis, sure, but that would never overshadow how loved she knew she was, and how much she loved her parents.

until that day came, dalia wanted to curb the baby fever she herself was feeling, so she sought out @Wildfire and her tiny crew of fluffs, a gift of a couple of velveteen doe ears held in her jaws. she assumed they were at wildfire's whelping (den? log? etc?), and so that's where she came, making her presence known with a soft bark.