Hoshor Plains I have no time for confession

The next four words out of Pala’s mouth sealed the deal: they were kindred spirits. Tiuttuk shifted closer, her expression open and attentive as she slowly settled onto her haunches. She hoped the expectant mother might do the same, make herself comfortable and settle in for a proper conversation.

She shifted in the grass—brittle and crunchy beneath her—as she weighed Pala’s words about the litter’s sire. It sounded as though she wasn’t mated to him, though that was only a guess. The following question surprised a tittering laugh from Pie’s throat.

Aya, I’m not even a year old, she confirmed with a slant of her snout. She paused before asking, The father—who is he to you? It seemed like a very nosy question, though they were fast friends, weren’t they? Where I’m from, couples sometimes wed. It’s definitely not the only way to have a family, she shared, thinking of her mother’s previous lovers, but I kind of like the thought. It’s… romantic.