Blackfeather Woods they made deserts; they called it peace

she's lost much of the bulk of pregnancy, and with her children's ever-growing independence she allows herself to stray further and further from the den. it is night now; they are asleep and only a short distance away in the glen below. she is perched on the edge of one of the three steep cliff faces that ring the glen, peering upward at the stars splayed across the sky. it has been a long while since she'd watched them, remembered old tales, and it is almost comforting to do so now, tracing the stars as if they are old friends.