Nova Peak Tämäh

Ayovi is a good patient, still, because even the slightest of movements sear her abdominals in pain. Dull stars dot her vision, but she has regained her breath.
“Sila,” the huntress murmurs in gratitude, even as her cousin’s pressure lights a scorching fire in her belly. “You’re here…” she holds her chin up a moment before it collapses back onto the stone. She gazes dreamily at her puppies. “They look like him,” Ayovi’s grin pierces up from the pain.
Her eyes catch on the return of the silver woman. Ayovi does not know her, and yet beneath her warmth and light is some of the most tenderest moments she’d ever known. Her lids weigh heavy, at once softened to her touch.
“Your eyes,” she’d seen them during the birth— a beautiful contradiction of dusk and sundown burned into her memory. Ayovi murmurs from the floor, a paw shifting irreverently towards her  cloak of ash. “What is your name?”