Sun Mote Copse Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme

Fortune favours those, who are patient and wait long enough. Just as Wraen had sat down, a small form appeared in the mouth of the den, earning a curious glance from the older wolf. It was a little Niamh look-alike, oddly-proportioned and not as handsome as his mother was (yet), but she gave him (or her - she could not see from her vantage point) a good-natured smile and a wag of her tail. For being the first and the bravest. 

The second came soon after and greeted the world with a loud screech of surprise and discomfort. Wraen shot a quick glance over her shoulder, then around, then let it land back on the puppy, who was squinting and blinking its eyes against the sunlight. That explained some things, Wraen sighed, raised to her feet to go over and comfort the little one herself, when Niamh - being the careful mother she was - beat her to it and took matters in her own capable paws. 

"Hey!" she greeted her Sergeant-at-Arms, who had no trouble bossing around her almost-adult son and embarrassing grown-up men, but who seemed to be a bit disorganized, when it came to managing her youngest brood. Kids were not soldiers. They did not abide to discipline or rules yet. Then another exclaimation turned Wraen's attention from the three in front of her, to the last one in the background. This fellow seemed to look very similar to puppy No.2. Not only in looks, but mannerisms as well. 

"I see that you are doing well?" Wraen raised her eyebrows and smiled sympathetically at the mom, then lied down in order to be in the same level as the kids were, so that it was easier and more comfortable for them to get to know her.