Noctisardor Bypass the wild god reaches into a bag made of moles and nightingale-skin

She already knew she would never get pregnant again. This was her first, last and only litter. But Druid had believed they would be worth the sacrifices she’d made, that she would immediately fall deeply in love with her children and motherhood. Instead, she felt like this. She didn’t have the words to describe her feelings, even in her own mind.

Druid found herself thinking of Sequoia. Where was her mother? Was she still alive out there? This was neither the first nor the last time she wished she was here. She sighed and sagged against a tree, realizing she felt a little out of breath. Once more she looked down and didn’t recognize herself.

When her eyes shifted upward to flick around her surroundings, she noticed Etienne in the middle distance. He chuffed in welcome. Druid stood up straighter and shuffled toward him, her frown deepening the closer she came. He looked as awful as she felt. Glaukos had really given him a beating.

She came to stand beside him, saying nothing. Her eyes traced over the dry, unkempt fur; the yellowing bruises; the scab on the mouth which had smiled so easily before. Druid felt a little like she had upon waking after her delivery: like all her insides were suddenly and unceremoniously scooped out of her.

I’ve made a terrible mistake, she said faintly.