Sawtooth Spire wolkenbruch

At Mahler's words, Nyx' raven-tipped ears splayed back. She did not raise her head nor even shift her yellow gaze to eye him sideways; shame pulsed through her veins, almost burning. A muscle in her jaw tightened and, remaining silent, she chose not to comment on the matter.

He went on to mention their former General, and she thought of the day they'd lost him. She remembered happening on that bloody scene, the solemn subordinates who gathered, how one of Stigmata's sons had swiftly disappeared. His other cubs vanished soon afterward, leaving only the long-legged Stag to bring his father's vision to light. Even Ketzia and her litter had gone, too broken by such a loss to continue calling the mountains home in his absence.

"Daughters," she answered without much thought, eager to press on from grim subjects. Nyx had dreamed up her future offspring on several occasions and, considering the boy who lived from her first litter that she'd been unable to mother, it felt wrong to bring sons into the world. Girls, she felt, would bring her greater joy. "You will be expecting several of each this year," she commented, suggestive of Wylla's heat cycle back at the fox hollow that Mahler was sure to have covered.