Deepwood Weald So lovely on the eyes.

She was so pregnant. A tiny but visible bump had developed and from what she could tell, or at least hoped for, there were many. Many mouths to feed and care for and have a family with. Pups ensured the future of their bloodline, of The Melonii itself, and she couldn't be more grateful to provide. The consort was peacefully minding her business when she scented someone nearby. One brow rose slightly as she followed the scent to the borders where she spotted the young charcoal man. Another friend of @Damien , perhaps?

Young man? What are you doing here? She called out to him, her tone void of emotion as always when addressing strangers. Her speckled tail was raised high up in the air, although not in a cocky fashion, and her pretty face tilted a bit to the left.