Swiftcurrent Creek twelve years a slave

Ira responded with a touch of indignation that made him seem more like himself. Bones's smile now broadened into a toothy grin, though it faltered, then fell when he mentioned mate-ship, pups and implied a declaration of commitment. Bones felt her stomach roll suddenly, like a whirlpool at sea had opened up inside her. Ira's concerned questions only made the feeling worse.

"Ira, I — I'm sorry, I can't..." Bones said with decidedly uncharacteristic hesitation, her voice a strange, whispered squeak. "I'm fine now. I'm safe," she said with a bit more strength, then looked at her paws as she admitted, "They did things to me..." Bones couldn't bring herself to describe said things, though even young Ira could probably put the pieces together. "I don't think I can ever be intimate with anyone or bear pups. I'm sorry, Ira," she concluded frankly, speaking in a soft voice.