Blackfeather Woods crushed and filled with all I found

sickness had paused her daughters' growth, for a time, but it is apparent that they will take well after their parents. somewhat too much so, she considers as she leaves behind the den, pausing once at the creek to sate her thirst. considering, she chuffs lightly, and a moment later the pair slip out after her. her presence at the borders and throughout the pack may have been low, but she is not ignorant to the shrinking ranks and their fluidity. 

Hela is quick to reciprocate Scylla's nip, and she orders them close before a full-blown fight can erupt. fights are becoming common, both as a result of their growing and the forced inaction of their illness. they grow close to blows once more, and the woman tugs Scylla away and into her jaws, where she sways and grumbles her dissatisfaction. undeterred, she continues towards the outer territory.

Maegi was wandering about, too, perhaps headed to the borders for a spell. She had grown tired of Parvati's company, weary of having to endure the listless nursing mother in order to see her children. Cassiopeia was a sight for sore eyes, and her growing daughters even more so. She shot her friend a smile, padding closer, mindful of the little ankle-biters nearby.

I haven't seen you in a while, she remarked, head tilted slightly. Only her eyes betrayed the sadness she felt, the sensation of being lost in a yawning, endless darkness. I was worried you'd gone, too, like Rams and Mou. The names stuck in her throat, choking and sour.

She dipped her muzzle at Hela and Scylla, amused by their interactions. They're in high spirits, at least, Maegi chuckled. She lifted her eyes to Cassiopeia, struck suddenly by the question she had meant to ask long before. Who is their father?

Hela tugs at her tail, something she bears with a twitch of her flank and a lackluster attempt to pull it out of her reach. the appearance of Maegi, however, has the girl pause in her attack and bound forward to meet the woman. Scylla begins to writhe, and Cassiopeia sets her down. With the distraction that Maegi presents, both girls are less eager to fight and more eager to greet the woman. 

she dips her head at the woman's words, acknowledging her scarcity. "my daughters were sick - lethargic. much of my time was spent tending to them." the fact that Ramsay has gone is surprising, enough so that her ears twitch back. she had not taking him for one to abandon the wood. muzzle twists into a half-smile at her words. the sudden shift to the question she'd known would one day need answers allowed little room for thought, and so she answered plainly. Maegi deserved as much. "Vaati." she made no attempt to justify it, for she did not think it needed done. her choices were her own to make and calculate, and she would bear their repercussions.

Concern filled her features as she stared at the girls, her eyes almost in disbelief to see them so hale. They've bounced back really well, Maegi remarked, letting her smile grow wry. She was more than content to linger on the subject of their health, no matter who their father was—well, almost.

It wasn't a surprise, per se, but it was somewhat of a shock. She had thought Cassiopeia had hated her brother, and yet, the two of them had been strangely connected when they both dwelled in the woods. Maegi remembered that, even with so much time passed. She could imagine the two doing the awkward dance of copulation she had engaged in with Titmouse.

Titmouse. She swallowed another pang of heartache.

I see, she said simply, gaze lingering on Hela and Scylla. Just because she disliked Vaati didn't mean she automatically would harbor ill-will toward the girls. They were half-Cass, after all—even if they weren't her brother's children, they were still family. They always would be. And they would be raised right here, without the former leader's tyrannical influence.

She let out a small puff of air, a tiny, stifled laugh of wonder. I suppose that makes them my nieces, then, Maegi murmured, glancing at Cassiopeia almost shyly.