Dawnlark Plains "you will burn and burn out;

The she-dog continued to hover in a stance of alertness, listening and breathing in the soft scent of the spring-warmed forest, utilizing her senses as much as she could to ensure the danger had passed. As the pair’s breathing began to slow to a normal pace, Imaq turned towards Lane with an impish grin. Her lips parted to say something, a joke maybe, when Lane’s question wiped the mirth from her face. If wolves could visibly pale, the shepherd would have blanched.

With a sigh, that sounded more bone-weary than Selkie intended it to, Imaq settled on her fluffy haunches defeatedly. “Imaq not know,” she answered honestly, seeing no reason to lie. 

Hesitating, the dove chose to divulge after a moment. “When Imaq leave Nunaat, Imaq is Tupilak. Cursed, evil. Father wolf, Salik, say Imaq never have cubs. Cubs come out evil too.”

”Imaq not think,” the mutter was lacking, frustrated. She didn’t regret what had happened at all, the thought of what she’d shared with Rye and the thought that their children might be growing in her womb as a result causing her stomach to flutter. But she had been dreadfully underprepared, mentally anyways — she had no doubt she could provide for her young. The helplessness she felt, the uncertainty, was what was eating at her. 

“Imaq…care about Rye. Imaq not want…” she struggled to string her thoughts together in a way Lane would understand, ears splaying gently with anxiety. 

I don’t want to mess this up. With either of them.