Sawtooth Spire a river turned to blood

As the time to whelp drew nearer, Nyx felt her anxiety heighten. She did her best to hide away from packmates, choosing instead to roam the reaches most familiar to her - those that she knew to be quieter. The last thing she wanted was to attract attention from others, considering a fast approach to motherhood that had ended in disaster once before.

There was great difficulty in believing that she was safe in Sagtannet. She and Wylla had not properly acquainted themselves since the latter's arrival in Diaspora, and to have successfully avoided her sharp tongue for all those months had been the only real shred of luck that she had. Nyx knew better than to find comfort in it, however, as life had proven more than capable of shitting on her good fortune. Mahler had vowed to defend her and their babes no matter what, though the thought of another robbing her of them was rooted deep.

Yellow eyes lifted from the ground at the sound of another, and the tawny Ostrega pricked her lobes forward in surprise. She recognised the powerful frame of the one leader she'd not yet properly met, having seen him from a distance and at the presentation of Wylla's offspring. With this opportunity to have a better look at him, she was swift to decide that Wintersbane was a handsome creature. He held a stature that rivaled that of Mahler, and Nyx took an extra moment to admire his heavy steps and proud crown as he meandered along in her direction.