Arrow Lake Kick my shoes off and run

there was a pall over takiyok, and mahler wondered worriedly at it. she ate, tended her children, and took excursions from the den, but he had heard of new mothers being gripped by a great sadness in the weeks that followed birth. as far as the gargoyle was aware, there was no cure, and in the stories passed to him, at times a she-wolf would shake off her pups and leave them, fading into the forest to seek out the solace of death.
mahler watched the winterwhite closely then, attempting to ascertain if she was merely tired, and perhaps wearied by the changes that had marked her life immediately before she fell pregnant.
”it has been my pleasure to be so close,” the man rumbled, casting a contented eye over her round, rambunctious pups. she and stigmata had done well to meld their lineages and fortify diaspora.
sadiq. mahler sensed a withdrawal in takiyok over her brother. any other time, or with another wolf, he would not have pressed. but takiyok ... ”how has he taken to being an uncle?” came his soft inquiry, punctuated by a small and encouraging smile.