Wheeling Gull Isle [M] hey, Blue: here is a song for you

Maegi spun, slowly, as if in disbelief of the sound. Yet there she was, tiny and pale and making an absolute racket, with Mou hovering above her. Well, no. The racket was not solely the newborn's to claim; the other pups were wailing, too, and she attempted to hush them with a quick brush of her muzzle 'cross the top of their heads before turning her attention upon—

My baby, she whispered, and drew close to Mou, her tongue swiping clear the sac, washing away the fluids of birth. My baby. So perfect.

She moved the girl—? Yes, she confirmed hastily, it was a girl, and she moved her into the other three bundles, tucking her close to her happenstance siblings. Such a stark contrast, her white pelt against their sleek, inky darkness. So different, and yet they all were hers, by one way or the other.

Her head moved and the corner of her eye found one of the dead pups, then the other, cast far aside. Suddenly overcome, she laid back down with the living babies to her breast and placed her head upon her paws, beginning to sob. She kept it mostly quiet, save the loud, sucking gulps of air she drew between keens, unsure whether to rejoice or to mourn—so she did both.

After a few moments, she turned to her husband, heavy-lidded. Bury them, she said hoarsely. Next to Niamh. It was, she thought, because she had given so much to the woman's pups that her own had perished in the womb. The trio belonged together, dreadful victims of circumstance. She would never forget them, nor could she ever hate the woman, or the orphaned babes.

Everything that was was meant to be. Jaes would tell her why eventually—or perhaps not—but all she could do now was grasp for some semblance of acceptance.