Lost Creek Hollow As we roll down this unfamiliar road

She was definitely going to burst any day now. She could feel it in her bones. And in her stomach, which was massive. And in her appetite, which was even more massive. She could also most definitely feel it in this incessant need she had to dig holes and gather soft detris and make herself a nest in which to expel these little beasts from her womb.

Their den wasn't good enough. Liffey was so painfully aware of that fact, she wanted to cry. The fervor of her drive to perfect it kept the tears at bay, luckily, but I can't say this obsession was an improvement. She didn't hear her best friend as he approached for she was deep in her whelping den, in the ground beneath the roots of a large, gnarled tree. But the racket she was making and the dirt she was pitching out her front door would certainly draw him near.