Bearclaw Valley And I'll be in Scotland afore ye

Looking at the black-furred woman closer, she saw the swell of her stomach. It was that time of year after all — with this news in place she'd expect the summer to be a busy one indeed. The woman had not said a word, instead stepping forward to sniff at the dog's ruff. Orson, she gave her name in return. She noted how the dog had submitted to the soon-to-be mother almost immediately, then caught the tell-tale tendrils of Merrick from her. It clicked in Orson's mind. She understood.

So far as Merrick provides in return; tit-for-tat an' all. Orson shrugged. She turned her attention to the woman, inquiring. How far along are ye, miss? Ye look ready to pop, though that might be on account a how small ye are, she grinned, jesting. She was curious as to when they were expecting to feed some pups, though.