Noctisardor Bypass [m]istletoe has moved into the lampshades

Druid’s lips parted to pose a question when Heda mentioned the food Glaukos had brought. Her hackles rippled, then smoothed. She settled down with an uncomfortable exhale, clicking her tongue. She reached for the fish, though she didn’t eat right away.

My bits are wet and it’s making me cold, she explained, taking a few moments to bend in half—as much as she could, what with her considerable baby bump—to clean and dry herself.

She shuddered through another piercing cramp before rearranging her legs and snatching at the fish again. Now Druid held it in place with one paw while she tore into it, lapping rather greedily at the juices that poured out of the body. The moss would come in handy later but the moist fish sufficed for now.

How do we feel about him right now? she asked, licking her lips after her latest bite. I don’t really know what happened the other day, between him, Etienne and Anselm. I know it can’t have been anything good…

She tsked again. As a young woman, Druid had mistrusted men, in part because of Mahler. She felt that old distaste swirling deep in her gut, though she refused to entertain it readily. Glaukos was many things but he’d provided for not just herself but Heda too. She may have chased him from her whelping den, yet she was immensely grateful to the bear of a man.

I wouldn’t be here, if not for him, she mused quietly. I don’t just mean in this particular predicament, Druid said, motioning at her belly, but I wouldn’t even be alive…