Sequoia Coast Crumble like a temple, built from future daughters.

anyone could be a flesh eater.
cen drove the pair closer and closer to the sea, and up until now, they had not seen much of wolven life aside from themselves. she carried fresh pelts and dried meat along with a secret bundle of dried herbs meant to help her with her pregnancy. she was starting to show, now, albeit only slightly; one would only notice if they looked at her too closely.
she still hadn't told cen.
she had been considering it often given his warmer mood, and she felt more comfortable at his side as a result — things were good, things were normal! it was a good time, and yet something in her remained apprehensive. would he be happy? angry? disappointed? fearful? she didn't know, and instinct told her not to find out.
especially not now as the scent of others began to swarm her senses and signs of a camp came into view. she looks to him as the cool, sharp knife of anxiety slices through her core — they could be flesh eaters, he'd said it himself. why was he bartering with them? why wasn't he protecting her?
she remains quiet as she clings to his side, maple eyes wide as if she was face to face with a ghost.