Ocean's Breath Plateau hear the clock tick, the wolf who loiters at the door

Even growing heavy with child, Tullik was not inactive for a second. Pregnancy didn’t seem to slow her much, as she tended to the lodge with an iron fist in her husband’s absence. She could be found slinging saltwater from her fur at any time of day now, digging the shore for clams, prodding her nose into rock crevasses after the creatures spit there by the sea. She was everywhere, a frantic sort of energy thrumming under her skin.

So, when Dutch called from the borders, she glanced up from the mouthful of feathers she had been steadily plucking from the bird she caught. She glanced at the bird, then the borders, then the feathers, before deciding to say screw it and meander over anyway. Her tail waved as she did, friendly despite appearing as though she was molting with how many feathers clung to her mouth and neck fur.

Her hello was muffled, but no less jubilant.