Redhawk Caldera throw a log on the fire

“MILF?” Fox asked, unfamiliar with the term. Once Peregrine inevitably explained the acronym, Fox shot him an endearing look. “You really are adorable and stupid, you know that?” she said, lazily swatting a paw at his head. Her belly was too full of food to do much more than that, and the after-meal stasis had taken its hold of her. Then again, being referred to as such wasn't the worst thing in the world. It meant that she was a mother (to-be, if we're getting into technicalities) and Peregrine still found her attractive. Both of those things were high on her list of priorities.

When he mentioned that her boobs might be getting bigger, Fox glanced at them, then touched one with her nose. It felt no different than it had the day, the week, or the month before. Just a good ol' fashioned nipple. “Just foodbabies,” she replied with a grin, “I think they might be overshadowing the real babies for a little while.” Fox couldn't remember exactly when she'd start feeling the symptoms, but now seemed much too soon... even if Peregrine had managed to get her knocked up on the first day.

“Oh yeah,” she replied, “I heard the call go up, but I wasn’t sure if it was in my dream or not. Momma’s gotta rest, y’know.” Fox was certainly going to use her pregnancy to every advantage she could think of. If she wanted to sleep and eat all day and night, she would just blame it on the babies growing in her belly. Belly babies. “Finley said something about wanting to watch them,” she added, “And you know how fondly I feel about her, despite her, ah, reckless behavior. She's my best friend.” But that didn't mean that Finley would be the only wolf trusted with their forming children. “Who else?” Fox asked, curious to know who heeded Peregrine's summons.