Sun Mote Copse Shine Bright Like A Diamond In The Sky

For @Ar-Khalba :3

Stalking through the shaded forest, Giana grumbled her displeasure with each pawstep she took away from the skittering rabbit she'd failed to catch. Why it surprised her, she didn't know: she'd been unable to hunt for a few weeks now with her wide sides and swollen ankles, and she'd sufficed on the caches in that time to sate her hunger. To hell with cravings, she'd find some stale groundhog later or something buried.
 
Stepping up into her den, the ivory wolfess squeezed into the log and turned around, letting her paws dangle the few inches to the ground and biting irritably at them. Gia panted slightly, exerted even by the short attempt at a hunt and the walk back to the den she hadn't really left. Her stormy eyes cast around the copse around her, daring any -- prey or wolf -- to come into her gaze this evening. The pups were kicking and making her ache particularly bad tonight, and with a sigh the Angelo's crinkled face smoothed to turn to the sky, wistful.

When he could, Ar-Khalba hunted small game. There were many mouths to feed among the Malkaria, and among them, many were heavy with child. Yet, with Winter's onset in full effect, prey in the areas surround the copse was scarce. That morning, he had brought Asherah a fresh kill. It was small; nothing more than an ill-fated squirrell. However, what he could provide was better than nothing. Her children -- his children needed the strenght that the small morsel would provide.

Yet, for Arunik'ra and Giana, Ar-Khalba was empty handed. He had herbs for nausua, that he had saved in a cache for winter. His supplies wouldn't fill a mother's stomach, but Ar-Khalba was determined to give aid in whatever he could in this time of famine. With his herbs in tow, he went to Giana first. She was expecting any day now, so she was of the most importance.

As he neared her den, Ar-Khalba found the woman staring at the sky. She appeared uncomfortable, but at this stage that was to be expected. He laid his herbs onto the snow and gave a muffled, small chuff to grab the sister's attention.

Giana Marie Angelo sneered in the face of danger, spat at her enemies paws, tore flesh and would end lives with her very own fangs should the need arise. A woman with the will of an inferno, fully independent and more dominant than any subordinate should be, prouder than the gods themselves perhaps. The ivory fae bowed to no man and pushed the limits of every being she knew, friend or foe. Even with the tempered knowledge that Molech was ever in control of her life, the woman could never truly accept the rule of another over her, nice as she played.

When faced with herbs, however, her blood ran cold.

The haze of happiness that stargazing brought was shattered at the approach of not just a packmate, but the Katimir that ruled the others. Gia knew full well her rights as a woman over him, but despite her normally sexist nature, she only fixed that storm cloud gaze on Ar-Khalba mistrustfully. He was a man Eshamun trusted and that had been around the woman much longer even than the rust-crowned femme, but it didn't write him onto her "okay list".

Especially when he came bearing herbs.

Her lips turned upwards in a momentary warning that he should come no closer, nostrils flaring to take in the scents of what he carried but ears fanning forward in curiosity; though he likely couldn't see it from where he stood slightly below the den mouth, her tail was curling over her faintly raised hackles.  Her questioning stare slipped from the red man to the plants he bore, brow furrowing -- like all herbs, she had no idea what it was. Chosing to stay silent, Giana licked her lips anxiously and awaited his request: clearly, he would have one? Why else would he be here?