Heron Lake Plateau All I'm tryna say is get back, click clack, BLAOW!

Raven hadn't missed the flowers and food that Ceara left her. In the rapidly-advancing final weeks of her pregnancy, she was often hot, hungry, and miserable, and the sweet, unexpected surprises -- laced with the subtle scent of the fiery-coated epsilon -- had brightened her days considerably. She wasn't sure if Ceara was simply looking out for her or if she was trying to atone for some offense she felt she'd given (for the alpha had already forgotten about the minor incident on the day that Screech had awakened), but the gestures were appreciated all the same.

Raven was out for a walk, panting and trying to loosen up some of the cramping that plagued her, when a sheen of golden sunlight on a richly autumn-hued pelt drew her eye to none other than Ceara herself. A big smile painted her features as she maneuvered her planetary mass to meet the Blackthorn, and within moments she was close enough to comfortably speak. "Hi, Ceara," she said warmly as she approached, her tail waving behind her. "I found the flowers and food you left me. Thank you so much." She noticed that the she-wolf carried more in her mouth, and felt a resurgence of gratitude toward her. Quixote had been so concerned about his ability to keep his mate fed in his injured state, but Ceara had more than helped out in that effort.