Swiftcurrent Creek preacher's daughter

Mae, with consternation written all over her little features, chose not to answer her fathers very pointed question. It was probably for the best—and Wren spoke as Mae began to glower to the ground, her ears slick to her skull, her sauciness emanating in waves despite the silence she offered them.

‘She tried to tell me I was sick and needed to come home…’

He huffed out a laugh—unable to refrain—before trying to cover this stumble by clearing his throat.

There was little to be said about any of this—the clear embarrassment of them both, the fumbling of words. All Akavir could be grateful for was that Mae hadn’t started stamping her little feet and insisted that Akavir make Wren feel better, given she was ‘sick.’

It was the little things in life to be content with…

“Thank you for bringing her home,” he offered, his tail giving an idle flick as he allowed the discussion of her non-pregnancy to drift away. Nor would he ask her why she had gone outside pack lands—or if she planned on changing her… non-pregnancy status.

“We don’t have much for healers here,” he noted, eyes lifting from his daughter to regard Wren once more. “But… Riverclan has some members that are more knowledgable. If… you’re trying to suppress anything. Or not.”

Damn, Mae, pulling him into this…