Sawtooth Spire I bow to no law made by men who never bore a child.

Nestled beside her sister at their mother's flank, having recovered from her sudden switch from one existence to another, the darkest of the General's daughters found quiet contentment. She was swift to forget about the dark, damp and cramped space she'd always known, and settled with ease into what would become her new normal.

As her parents watched over her and talked among themselves, the freshly-named Cirilla sourced a willing teat to fit into her eager mouth. She paddled her tiny forepaws and drank deep the sweetness of mother's nourishing milk until her belly was filled, enough to lull her into a deep slumber.