Lost Creek Hollow no doubt, no doubt, no doubt.

Despite Rannoch's partiality in being the little spoon, @Liffey's comfort and overall well-being was more important to him—espcially when she was carrying their children. It was evident now that she was pregnant, and Rannoch did what he could to dote on her every desire. 

With another day behind him, the Frostfurs curled around each other in their shared den as starlight twinkled into their foyer. "What a day," he breathed happily as he curled around her. Although the day had been unremarkable, they had made it to Rannoch's favorite part of the day—spending quality time with his wife. "Did you all have a good day?" he asked, and then began to preen as the silky fur behind her ears—he was all ears to hear how her day had been.

Liffey loved being a mother. She loved having cute little babies to cuddle and dote on and she loved having little ones looking up to her and relying on her to keep them safe and shape their lives. It was the single greatest thing she had ever done in her life. She loved it so much, in fact, that it had made her forget all about just how freaking awful it was being pregnant. Pregnancy was, in fact, so freaking awful that it actually made her periodically regret getting pregnant at all.

She was kind of in that mood when Rannoch wrapped himself around her like a snake neck, being all happy and sweet and wonderful. She felt physically ill, but also ravenously hungry and rather like she wanted to cry about it. Her mate was being so kind, though, Liffey decided to try and suck it up for the sake of preserving his joy. No need to rain on his parade just because his kids were being jerks inside of her.

"Oh yes - it's been a wonderful day," Liffey answered, "We went for a walk and saw the falls, then we came home and napped. Then we ate, and then we napped s'more." Add some puking her guts out to the walk and replace one of the naps with puking her guts out and it was a fairly accurate picture of her day, minus the intermittent crying in between.

Rannoch smiled as Liffey her day, leaving him oblivious to all the nitty-gritty details of her fatigue and nausea. "Glad to hear it," he murmured in reply, pausing her grooming. "And how did they enjoy the trip? Did they ask lots of questions?" Rannoch couldn't help but tack a chuckle at the end of his reply—they both knew that his questions were just silly.

Note: I am the worst husbwolf but, you get post 1600!

Liffey smiled at her mate as he continued acting as though their next batch of kids were already running around outside of her. It wouldn't be all that long now until such was true, but she had to admit that they were pretty vocal even now before that was the case. Unfortunately, she did not much appreciate the ways in which they voiced their feelings.

"Oh yes, they were all clamoring for attention at once," Liffey answered, "Repeatedly." As if to agree, she felt a little kick in her stomach. Her ears perked at this and she peered at her belly, her spirits lifting in spite of how awful she felt. She glanced back over her shoulder at Rannoch, wondering if he'd felt it too, though she didn't speak the question aloud.

I AM UNWORTHY. Also, IDGAF if it's too early for kicking #NORULESJUSTRIGHT.

Note: YOU ARE ALWAYS WORTHY. #NORULESJUSTRIGHT

"It sounds like we've got a bunch of rascals on our paws," Rannoch remarked, his excitement apparent. They'd be polar opposites of their older siblings—and Rannoch couldn't wait to meet them. "We better get all the sleep we can now so that we can at least try—" he was interrupted mid-sentence, feeling their child's sudden kick.  

Rannoch locked eyes with Liffey—the motion had felt just like a kick, but he wasn't sure. "Was that??" he prompted, as a smile began to spread across his lips.

The look on Rannoch's face as their children kicked in her belly. That was the look she thought of whenever her pregnancy got tough. Whenever she was puking her guts out or crying her eyes out, that was the face she needed to remember in order to remind herself of why it was worth it.

She smiled softly at him as she nodded. That weepy feeling was coming upon her again, but she was okay with it this time. This was a happy one. "I think they want to say hi to their papa," Liffey said, reaching to kiss his cheek.

"You think?" Rannoch proposed rhetorically, his voiced hitched with excitement. "Well, I can't be rude to them—so if you'll excuse me for juuust a moment," he said, as he leaned his snout towards his wife's abdomen. 

"Hiya, kids," Rannoch greeted, his voice softer as he bumped his nose against Liffey's side. "It's me, your papa."

Liffey grinned as Rannoch leaned over to address the children in her stomach. She'd gotten used to behavior like this back during her first pregnancy. It had definitely been weird at first, but now it was just sweet.

While the babies inside of her attempted to communicate with their father via morse code on her abdomen, Liffey's gaze trailed out at the sky over their heads. "You know what we should do?" she said suddenly, her voice a little dreamy, "We should pick out stars in the sky for each of our kids. They can each have their own little celestial night light. And they can show their star to their kids, and they can pick stars for our grandkids until the whole sky is claimed by Frostfurs."

A whole kingdom in the sky, for eternity. Liffey liked that.

Regardless of Rannoch's inability to decipher his children's messages, he was enamored with them; he couldn't wait to meet them. His attention was only redirected when Liffey began to speak. "Hm?" Rannoch hummed in reply, his head lifting at the sound of her voice. 

Liffey spoke of her aspirations to fill the twilight overhead with their legacy. "I love it," he replied, his voice soft. "Should we start with Breccan?" Their first-born son—the one who'd be able to truly pass the Forstfur name to the next generation.

Rannoch was onboard, which did not at all surprise her. Still, she was grateful for his eager support and rewarded him with a smile. Her eyes darted back overhead as he suggested they start with Breccan, which she agreed to with a soft nod of her head. Her eldest son should be first. Her young prince.

"There's a stag I've drawn in the stars a few times that might be.... Let me see..." she murmured as her gaze moved across the sky. It took her a moment to locate it, but she smiled broadly when she did, "There! To the East. Breccan should have the bright star on the very tip of its antlers, just there by that small, faint cluster." She didn't bother looking at her mate to see if he was able to find it. She would know by the oh so familiar sound of his uncertain shifting and humming or surprised excitement whether or not he was successful.

A stag—the animal was fitting for their eldest son. Breccan had grown into a strapping young man with the strength and stamina of his star-bound doppelganger; Rannoch was incredibly proud of the young man his son had become. "Yeah," he agreed, turning his attention skyward.  

It was a beautiful night outside—there were no clouds, and the stars twinkled brightly. When Liffey located what she had been looking for, Rannoch eagrly turned his attention eastward. Unlike his wife, who had a talent of scoping out constellations, it took him much longer to find what he was looking for. 

"I-I got it!" Rannoch exclaimed after some time, his posture straightening and his neck craning forward as his gaze trained on the star. "It's perfect," he added, pulling his attention from the sky so that he could lean over and nudge Liffey's cheek. "You did a great job, Liff," he added, his voice softer. 

"What about Deshyr?" he asked then, eager to find something for their daughter. "I'm thinking something like a rabbit might suit her if you know a constellation like that. What do you think?"

Liffey did turn to look at her mate when he excitedly declared that he saw the star she had chosen for their son. She smiled broadly at him and looked up again, her mind reeling with joy over how perfectly this was working. Rannoch had never been very good at finding stars and drawing shapes in the sky with her. He'd gotten better over the years, but he still struggled. The fact that he'd found Breccan's star so easily felt like destiny to her, and Liffey had the strange, wonderful feeling that they were doing something truly profound.

"I think a rabbit is perfect for her," she commented with an appreciative nod. She looked across the sky, drawing shapes with the stars as she went. She didn't offhand know where to find a rabbit, but soon enough she drew one, using stars that floated above Breccan's stag. "There. Just North of Breccan's. It's the tip of the rabbit's nose." Her heart swelled, and then faltered. Because of who was next.

"Wisp and Remi... they should be together," she said softly, fighting against the tears that pricked in her eyes at the thought of them.

At Rannoch's suggestion, Liffey weaved a rabbit out of starlight, and he watched her fondly as she sought a sky-bound cottontail. When she found what they had agreed upon, Rannoch followed Liffey's direction. Due to the rabbit's proximity to the stage, he easily discovered the rabbit's contour—and then realized which of their children came next. 

Rannoch's heart sank; he missed Remi and Wisp. 

Liffey appeared as melancholy as he felt. Rannoch turned to her, noticing the emotion that shimmied in her fire-like eye. He wanted nothing more than to take her pain away, and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "They should," he agreed, "I think they should be birds—birds who left the nest earlier than anybody ever thought they would."

Liffey didn't often allow herself to think of Remi and Wisp. Thinking of them broke her heart all over again, and she was all too aware of how terribly hypocritical that was of her. She had been like her daughters once - eager to be free to find her own path in life. What they had done to her was the same as what she had done to her own mother. It was to be expected. She could not begrudge them the freedom that she had sought in her youth.

Still, she missed them so fiercely, she could not help but regret giving her blessing, regardless of what a terrible hypocrite it would've made her to deny them.

Liffey sank into her mate's touch and gave him a weak smile. His idea was once again a good one. She nodded and looked skyward again, searching for the perfect pair. She found them after a few silent minutes and gestured with her muzzle. Twin birds, the very tips of their wings shared by the same, bright star. Together in the sky as she prayed they were in life, wherever they were.

Rannoch and Liffey remained where they were for some time, reflecting on all that their family had experienced in the past year. Although most of their time had been shrouded in grief, Rannoch felt as though they were finally on the upswing. Both their family and pack were thriving, and frankly, that was all that he wanted. 

When the night was darkest, their stargazing ended. Rannoch and Liffey returned to their den that night a little lighter, despite the heavy conversation they had shared.