Qeya River But often it happens, you know

star eater laughs softly, a low, almost purring sound. look at me, she echoes, giving a dramatic glance down at her wide sides. feels like a big one. they're starting to squirm, too. little warriors already fighting in there. her tail gives a lazy sweep behind her as she shifts her weight, easing the pressure on her hips.
her gaze flickers up to ridgeback, a spark of amusement there. want to feel them? she asks, tilting slightly to offer her side. it's said so easily, so casually, as if inviting him to touch the very future of their people is no more complicated than passing a glance. but there’s pride in it, too. in this belly, in this life. in all of it.
she muses, thoughtful now. maybe four. my husband would like an army, but the caribou will decide. her gaze drifts out to the snowfield beyond, watching the distant herds with quiet reverence. they always do.