Ouroboros Spine xlviii. one day, we'll reveal the truth

Almost six weeks. Six weeks since the spiritbear's scent had grown stale upon their bed furs, upon her own dove peltage. Lótë had clasped to hope with trembling, fearful hands until she strangled it in her fervent desperation. 

How long had @Kukutux waited before singing the death songs?

Sivullik had gone after her fever, to search for the firepelted Tupilak, pressing a kiss to her cheek that she had not known to cherish as the last -- his confident, almost boyish smile haunting her like the blinding after-image of brother sun glinting off virgin snow. The Baptiste, who had only recently been given her name, felt foolishly betrayed in this, in not having been prepared for the possibility that Adrastus might not return. 

Six weeks since the fever that brought them together, morning dove and bird of peace. In less than a turn of a moon, the two-year would bring their children into this world. A horrible dread had begun to seize her at the mere thought when there should have been only joy, afraid as she was that her cubs' father would not be here to see it. 

The mother-to-be kept to the ulaq the alabaster huntsman had presented her with, a silent stubbornness to her dailys actions as she tended to the furs that had been stockpiled, stored what food she could catch -- mainly fish -- in her condition. There would be no fasting for the greenpaw and she spoke nothing aloud of the songs echoing in her dreams. 

He would return. And when her husband finally came home, he would be injured, aching from whatever trials had kept him away. Lótë intended to insure that Adrastus came home to a welcoming den, that he would have somewhere comfortable to rest whenever he found his way back.