Heron Lake Plateau your shadow weighs a ton

She nodded to Niamh and Ceara, appreciating the initiative they took in getting rid of that lupine piece of trash so she wouldn't have to deal with it herself. She watched Screech pull himself weakly to his feet, and felt no sympathy for him. She recognized the infinitesimally fleeting glimpse of remorse in his eye, but it meant nothing to her now. She had no more capacity for his manipulative bullshit. He had always known exactly how to play her to his advantage, it seemed, but no more. It was almost scary, the change that had taken place in her when he put her unborn pups at risk. It was as if a switch somewhere inside of her had been turned off.
Perhaps this was what it was to be a mother.

As her disowned brother disappeared, she had to resist the urge to follow them and make sure he actually left. She started to take a step and swayed dangerously on her feet. She was so dizzy. There was so much blood. How could she bleed so much and yet live? Quixote's tongue was tender on her face, but it still hurt and she whined softly. Giving in to his urging, she let him escort her back to the little copse of trees where they bedded down together at night -- she had a small assortment of medicinal plants there that she had recently gathered. She collapsed in the shade, dapples of sunshine dancing over her sable fur and illuminating the bloody streaks like so many scarlet tears. She eyed it fearfully, her gaze moving slowly from her slashed forearms back over the round curve of her belly. So much blood. She turned her glazed eyes up at her mate and gestured almost drunkenly with a movement of her head. "Over there...under those bushes. Yarrow...white flowers. And dandelions. Bring 'em." He did, and with her direction, the two of them managed to get her patched up reasonably well enough so she wouldn't bleed to death. There would be time to reflect on all that had happened later, but for now, she rested under the watchful eye of her beloved.