Swiftcurrent Creek we can fake it for the airwaves

@Kavik forward-dated a few days

Outside the den, the wind and snow are relentless, raging against the Earth as if scorned; Alessia, perhaps, understands the feeling. The inky girl is curled miserably in the corner, positioned a little awkwardly to accommodate the slight swell of her belly. It hurts, of all things, and she's not quite certain if it's meant to hurt. Waves of cramps spread through her abdomen every few minutes, leaving a lingering ache in the space between. The pain itself is not intolerable — but combined with the bitter cold, it's almost more than she can stand. It worries her, too; she doesn't know if pain is normal or if it means there is something wrong, with her or with the pups, and there is no one to ask. She shivers a little harder at the thought, somehow feeling colder as the weight of her loneliness strikes her again. All she can do is wait and worry and hope — alone, of course.