Sun Mote Copse We are legion

The brief touch of Niamh's cool nose to her warm cheek made Wildfire's skin tingle. She swallowed thickly and tried to surreptitiously take an actual and metaphorical half a step backward. "Don't," she murmured, the word meaning two totally different things all at once. Hopefully Niamh would interpret it as Wildfire mostly intended: don't feel like an idiot. She offered a reassuring smile, or so she hoped. There was so much going on within that the Sovereign wasn't entirely sure what her face looked like right now and whether it was betraying her.

Niamh didn't want to be rid of the ducks, after all, and she wanted to know if her emotions would settle down after she gave birth. "Most likely," Wildfire fibbed, thinking again of her own crying jags after her second litter. Every little thing had set her off back then, though there had surely been more at play than just wacky hormones. It hadn't happened before or since. "You'll be so focused on your babies, you won't even remember to feel anything other than overjoyed."

And while they were on the subject, the Sovereign figured it would be a good topic to pursue, not just to get Niamh's mind off her plight but also to distract herself. "Have you thought of names yet?"