Sleepy Fox Hollow Folk star

Leaning her head into the plush fur of Mahler's breast brought forth a slew of emotions that left Wylla fighting for her composure. What she wouldn't do to have Tiercel with her right now. The fiery lash of her daughter's sass would cut her to the core, but she felt like it was what she needed. A reminder that not everything needed to be so heavy—there could still be play and banter and teasing. Things would change now but some things would remain the same, for better or worse.

A bubble of watery laughter leapt to Wylla's lips when Mahler declared them both stubborn. She would argue until her dying day that he was twice the stubborn old fool that she was, but that was their game, was it not? Who could say if things would transpire differently if he had waited. She might never have found him alluring without the threat of losing him.

His kisses coaxed her to look up into the lavender of his gaze, ordinarily so cool, now a warm little flame in the hearth. Mahler asked a question that frankly dumbfounded Wylla. It might've been less confusing if she hadn't dealt with her pregnancy alone last year, but she truly had no idea that speaking to unborn cubs was a thing. She believed they were alive and that it was a sin to kill the unborn, but she didn't think you could talk to them. What? she asked, perplexed. Speak with who?