Firestone Hot Springs but now the nightmares come again

She didn’t offer a number, though she referred to herself as a mother. Harps didn’t actually understand that particular accented word until she went on to mention children. Her head tipped ponderously. She was old enough to have raised children to adulthood, which meant she could be the same age as Tambourine, who’d sired children over two different seasons. Perhaps she was even older, matriarch of many litters, maybe even a grandmother.

Harps couldn’t help but think of her own mother, who had spurned that title. She had always insisted on being called by her name: Spur. She had never wanted to be a mom, a point which she had made clear with nearly every action and word throughout Harps’s childhood. The young she-wolf had left in large part because she couldn’t bear to be around Spur anymore (and she still didn’t understand how her dad and Lele put up with her). The yearling hoped Erzulie’s grown children hadn’t left for similar reasons.

The only way to find out was to ask. ”Why did they leave?” In practically the same breath, she said, ”I just turned one. I left my parents and older sister not that long ago. I loved them but they argued a lot. Spur—my… mother—was particularly toxic,” Harps confessed haltingly, the title unfamiliar in her mouth. ”She never wanted kids. She took it out on me and Lele, even though Lele wasn’t hers.” She bit her lip, feeling a tightness in her chest as she recollected, wondering too if she was oversharing.