Sunset Valley stepstones

She could feel the pups stirring inside her as she loped east from the peak. Perhaps most mothers enjoyed this stage of pregnancy, though Masquerade just found it strange and mildly unsettling. She was glad they were so lively, she supposed, but sometimes those little kicks hurt. Besides that, she still suffered from frequent cramping and her sides were so swollen, every movement was ungainly.

Despite this, she wanted to stretch her legs today. Masque licked her lips as she reached the fringes of Sunset Valley and dropped her nose to comb for scents. There was many a rabbit warren around here, she knew. They were far too quick for her, especially without a partner, and she knew she was in no state to hunt. Perhaps she might get lucky though.

Her yellow eyes caught something in the distance. She waddled to a halt, squinting at the figure of a wolf painted in earthen hues. There was something furtive about his movements. That made sense to Masque, as she figured he was out here hunting too. Her tongue ran over her lips again as she pondered the faraway figure and whether the risk (of approaching a stranger in this condition) might be worth the reward (of finding an impromptu hunting partner).