Dahozhoni Meadow does my breath smell?

His eyes flitted while he slept, and he eventually opened them. Odessia felt like she could live right here in this moment forever, although that did not seem very practical. He spoke of a dream, and Odessia repositioned herself so she could see him more clearly. The thought of carrying twenty-six puppies was nauseating, though carrying a few probably would not be so bad. Her mother had done it, her mother before her, and her mother before her, and so the list went on and on.
"What an oddly impossible scenario," she said. Silently, she wondered how many they would have this year. And how many, out of those, would survive to adulthood? That was a mildly morbid thought, but a realistic one. She had seen some of her own siblings perish before they could properly take care of themselves. Survival of the fittest. That was the phrase her stoic father had used.