Duskfire Glacier who whispered the beauty of snow and the fear of death

Imaq kissed him back, trying hard not to squirm or wriggle with happiness. If she'd had a tail it surely would have been wagging fiercely with how euphoric she felt -- but maybe that had something to do with rampant hormones and a lack of sleep -- or not, given how sore she was. As if on cue, the she-dog was halted from saying anything immediately by a ferocious yawn, tucking her foreleg over her muzzle as a soft whine escaped her with the effort of her exhaustion. 

Instead she offered her soon-to-be mate -- how strange to think he would soon be her husband but it sent an ecstatic little thrill racing through her heart -- a bright smile before shifting closer to curl against his side as best she could. Her spotted muzzle dipped down, gently rearranging their cub so that he lay in front of her, against Rye's legs.

Sleepily, her cerulean gaze watched as Siku's tiny chest rose and fell -- occasionally flitting drowsily to the man at her side, as if to ascertain that he was truly there -- until she could hold her eyelids up no longer and surrendered to sleep. 

Just before she gave in, the isabella merle brushed her head against the Hotah's ribcage. "Ânalligik ipvit." It was a whisper of an exhale as it left her lips.