Stone Circle Love, mom

As sudden as the light hit his tears so too did her’s come. She reaches to touch his with her kiss before tucking her muzzle beneath his chin. Together they gaze down at their children, and nothing in this world has ever felt more right to her.

“You’re a father,” with awe she murmurs. And what will their children call him? “Or maybe, a dad? Pops? Old man?” Even in her weariness her dry throat gives a laugh.

She’d learned a lot about Fig, and the circles she would go with him around. Of the lines they’d marked, only to cross over. Even if they’d tried to stop each other, they couldn’t. And she knew she never would. He was the only one. Her's.