Blackfeather Woods i've got a little black book with my poems in

Distracted as she was by the sensations inside her body, Parvati swiftly clued-in on the hint that the conversation was coming to an end. She wanted to be present for her friend as she grieved over her lost litter, but - it wasn't really a litter, was it? It was an illness. What if the feelings Parvati was experiencing were the same? What if she wasn't pregnant after all, but incredibly sick? Would her babies burst from her gut like some kind of xenomorph, or leak from her in to a puddle of worms --? The thoughts made her feel ill; so Parvati smiled thinly and with a bow of her head, excused herself as politely - as silently - as she could, and waddled off to find a place to nap.