Wheeling Gull Isle they are two alone

Once folded into her husband's embrace, the tears became sobs, and she pressed her skull hard against his shoulder and wept. I do want to keep them, she replied, pushing through snot-clogged nose and rasping voice. I do. But. . .

Could Phox could miss them just as much, when he hadn't ever touched them, nursed them, known them? Maybe she would have clung desperately to these children if she had never had any of her own.

But she had, and had lost them in many ways, and no matter when or where they had slipped away, she had mourned them all. Their names a mantra every night in her mind.

I'd give my soul to see our babies again, Maegi whispered. Any of them. If there was a chance. . .even the smallest of chances. . .I'd take it.

She pulled away, her normally plush fur along her cheeks slicked down by her weeping. We can't take that chance from Phox.