Sun Mote Copse And you will surely be the death of me

She was so tired. It was growing difficult to fight her falling eyelids.

They were here now. Three, healthy and feeding. Waawaashkeshi wondered how long it would be before they would open their eyes and be able to move about, at least a few weeks she had to assume. She knew she should name them, and she would, but only after her mind was clear and the pain was gone.

All that pain for these children, and yet her heart felt nothing but pure love. They were something entirely hers to hold and cherish, at least for the moment. A new generation of Summerwalkers to carry her traditions further than her own paws would allow.