Sawtooth Spire racing in my mind, doing 100 in a 60

last part of that post broke my heart, omg ;_;

After returning home from breaking the news of her blossoming pregnancy to Howl, Star had been contented. There were things she could worry about and fret over until the day came- one being her old age, and what it meant for her birthing experience. The chances that such an old woman could survive such a thing... she was no medic, and was not sure how much life she had ahead, but she was not the dramatic self of her younger days, had long overcome her traumas.

The last of life was the sweetest, and she intended to soak up every moment like fresh bread in wine, taking in all the joy and savoring what she had left. And so she spent the days with gentle smiles, working hard until she became too round to keep hunting and patrolling, and finally had to settle into the old den which Wylla had gifted to her. But stillness made her restless. No matter how the years passed, she would always be a warrior, a hunter, a guardian- not one who was comfortable with feeling like a pampered spoiled bitch. Life wasn't easy, and there was no need to take it easy, in her perspective. And so Star got up that morning, stretching each of her legs in turn and vowing to herself that she could still patrol the territory some time longer. Her birth wasn't today, after all- not for a week, at least- so why not work? 

It was on her way towards the borders that some high pitched wailing caught her attention and made her want to plug her ears, but she knew a child's voice, and knew it was her job to ensure everything was okay, despite how it irritated her. Ah, well. She ought to get used to it now; she had a real surprise coming if she didn't learn how to deal with children quickly. 

So Star pursued the source of the sound, figuring she would simply be the awkward intruder on some child's argument with Wylla. But soon enough her dark gaze caught the girl, and she decided everything was not okay. She couldn't exactly recall what made a two month old different from a three month old and so on... but something told her a child this young, even a talking one, ought to be supervised. Perhaps even moreso, now that they learned to work their legs and work their imaginations into ropes that could drag them off to dangerous places. 

Vision swept the area, sure enough, she was alone. Star recalled the girl was named Phaedra; had only "met" her once- and wondered if she was even remembered. Probably not... but perhaps her scent would be familiar... she could only hope. As the pale lamb made off for the treescape before her, Star followed swiftly (as she could with a round stomach), meaning to stop the little explorer in her tracks. What was all this about? And why, for God's sake, had she been wailing before? What about? 

Phaedra, w-wait, She called out with sudden urgency as she approached from behind, hoping the Eisen's daughter might halt and come back.