Arrow Lake What are people but deaths that haven't happened yet?

the motherdove had taken up mahler’s offer, which pleased him immensely. the thicket held the last vestiges of birth, a warm place mostly scented with milk and the downy fragrance of newborns. comforting to that harried core in mahler, the proverbial chest wherein he had locked away the memories of his own children.
he lay across the denmouth, aurëwen having gone to find a handful of moments belonging solely to herself for once. it was into his tall forearm that little dragomir collided, and an amused smile crossed the shadowpriest’s muzzle as he dipped over to ensure that the boy was not injured. 
”you vill be able to run outside before you know it, little dragon. but for now you must stay inside, ja? it is safer here.” mahler spoke conversationally to dragomir, shifting round until the child was between his forelegs, and casting a glance at the dozing isi.