Wapun Meadow all these lines across my face tell the story of who i am

the days continued to grow warmer, and with it the woman with no name had become braver.  

she often strayed both inside and out of the valley now, emboldened by her mate with the former and her packmates and the breaching spring with the latter.  

she was fat.  the children she carried were growing at an exceptional rate and she was eating to accommodate them.  the vomiting had ceased but in its place was a ravenous hunger.

after eating her fill from the cache, she strode into wapun, her nose high in the air.  a gentle breeze rippled over the meadow, the sun bright and warm against her fur.

it was a good day for a walk.