Little Goat Mountain baby, if you like it

while it had been hidden with subtlety for most of the past two months, it was getting close enough to her due date that her heaviness showed. it was a great discomfort that she despised. tearing away her ability to move with the freedom and agility she had once had; for this she hated the creatures leeching off of her, only comforting herself with the thought that it would be worth it. they would be extensions of her, new limbs each with their own claws and teeth. eventually they would serve her and her purpose and she would be lean as a strip of bacon once more. 

but for now, still, she hated it. 

her catches were small- no more goats, just voles and mice. she kept to herself in her den, though the lack of adrenaline found in there frequently frusturated her, and so she would take brief walks for as long as she could handle before she grew tired and returned home. now was one of those times- she wove between trees at the base of the small mountain, eventually pausing to lay at the base of one great root and rest for a moment.