Sawtooth Spire what immortal hand or eye

i demand your firstborn. praimfaya lets out a low, amused snort. not that her firstborn was a potential price for her life — her culture did pit the fos goufas against one another in a fight to the death to become commander and no one batted a paw at it, after all — rather praimfaya's amused by the thought of having children. not because she hasn't considered it ...lately, she has been. the commander was meant to be alone but she inadvertently had ideas for cub names swimming about her head, thinking that it was the only way to keep the line of commander blood going ...but as far as she was aware, having cubs required a mate. which she didn't have. would probably never have.

can only barter with my firstborn if it's even a remote possibility. she points out with sardonic humor lacing in her tone, followed swiftly by a casual shrug of her shoulders. a bit cliché, yeah, praimfaya agrees in a teasing tone. but don't worry, i don't plan on wasting it. which probably meant no more reckless fights over something as petty as not wanting to take the long way 'round.

we can spare some, praimfaya agrees. there's a cache not too far away. i'll be right back. wanheda says before vanishing back the way she came. minutes pass and she returns with a relatively fresh groundhog clasped betwixt her jaws. hope this is ok. she says after she sits it down and nudges it over the borders towards sugar glider. it's the least i can do.

you gonna stay with your family long? praimfaya asks conversationally.