Stavanger Bay don't you give up on me,

Whiskey was the quietest of the bunch, typically. She was easygoing and whenever any of her siblings wished to scramble all over her, she relented without complaint. The cub would forever want to appease her family, quiet and submissive and meek in comparison to the others. That only changed when she was hungry and there wasb nothing for her to eat before her eyes. Only then would any see the potential of her ferocity, that she was very much so a child of great parentage. Her timidness melted to nothing as she shoved her way to the nearest teat. Once she had what she wanted? Again, she was meek and sweet!

She was never sure who she thrust beyond, but she had done so then with plenty of annoyed grunts to show how irate she was that she had to fight her way to the food. But Whiskey was a survivor, and she loved the food as much as she loved the warmth her family gave to her.

PPing Doe, because I am a lazy mom.

The insistent piping of little lungs had long since drawn her to the outskirts of the red mother's cave. They had seen each other only in passing, and not at all since the other's cubs had been born. When their eyes had met, the red mother's had been hard, and Mannoah's gold ones had echoed that back even as she longed to be rescued. She had seen the woman caring for her daughter, speaking lovingly to her mate, and even sharing kind words with the boy who shared the Devil's den with her - but Mannoah had been left out.

She understood that she'd commited a grave crime against this woman; through little fault of her own, Mannoah had come to carry the children of the alpha, which would soon be born to compete with the red mother's children for resources. Mannoah's first instinct had been to gloat and put herself above the other in he vain hope that others would do the same - but the wolf knew, at the end of the day, that she would not be rising any higher through the ranks. She was a concubine, a slave, and nothing more.

Mannoah didn't know why she hovered. Many had passed in and out of the cave, but she still harbored doubts that she would be allowed to do the same. She and the red mother had never said a word to each other - not that it would have done any good if they had.

Sucking in a breath, the shewolf ambled up toward the cave, pausing only once her long, snipy nose was poking into the entrance. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, and the red mother seemed to have been waiting for her. She was there, in the corner, curled around her children on a pile of animal skins. When she saw that Mannoah was watching, her black lips curled up to reveal sharp, white teeth.

Mannoah lowered herself, and her eyes dropped and landed on the four pups she harbored at her teats. When one of them mewled, Mannoah felt her own dugs grow heavy. She took a few steps closer and was met with a warning growl, but when she crawled with her belly to the ground, the red mother allowed her to approach.

Slowly, she extended her muzzle toward the smallest, palest pup and brushed her nose across its downy fur.