Bearclaw Valley apertivo

Two mothers? There hadn't been two mothers when Stryx had crossed the sand. There had been one, hidden in the grotto and bleeding out from many complications. Stryx frowned as she listened to the boy and then shook her head.

No, no, that's wrong. She was thinking as she spoke, imagining her last visit to the area. The grotto had been a fortress when she'd found it, and then stank of blood and birthing fluids after. Who had been there? A pale man that she could recall, but not name. And two cubs were born.

There was one birth that year that I attended, at the Sound. There was a dark woman hidden there - and two children born. Stryx now looked upon Val with her full intensity, studying his face. Seeking signs that this tale was familiar - or maybe looking in to his eyes to seek truths there. He looked more like the dark woman from the grotto.

Your mother, with the yellow eyes. She was sure of it.
But maybe she was wrong anyway. I may be old, boy, but I remember my patients.