Blacktail Deer Plateau that fancy wine won't put this fire out

Maegi smiled wider at the response, but it wasn't long before her features relaxed into something closer to worry, more akin to the tired lines furrowed into her brow, her lips. She was approaching her fourth year, and age was beginning to show upon her scrawny frame. 

Not yet decrepit. . .but then, she had been marred from the start, with that clubbed paw, and soon after, the tattered face.

I will always love you, tala, Maegi murmured, shaking off thoughts of her mortality. It was important to be in the here and now— Your daddy loves you, too. Nothing will ever change that. And you will always be our baby.

She swallowed, forcing herself to meet Vesper's gaze, to hold it. To anchor her against the coming storm. 

That dark man with orange eyes, Phox? He's actually your father, Vesper, she explained, very gently. And your real mother was a beautiful woman with golden fur—bright as the sun. Her name was Niamh. And she died on the day you were born. . .but we were able to save you and Prevost and Peregrine.

Paused, then, to allow her daughter to process all that information.