Moonspear Atari's lantern.

Two names? That was interesting to Hydra, who only had the one (not including the monikers earned overtime). It was clear that the girl much preferred the name Meerkat in any event, as that was what she went by. Hydra could see the bond between mother and daughter before her eyes, heart warming; a part of her was reminded that Towhee had never thought this would be possible for her. And here it was, before the two of them. 

And the duo were night and day; Towhee and her were two birds of a feather, and though Meerkat came from one of those birds her own feather was on an entirely different appendage that seemed to serve a different function. No less important for that, though. Each feather had a purpose that someday led to flight, and Hydra could see no clipped wings between the two of them. 

That Towhee did not know she was pregnant was surprising to the matriarch, though. You had no idea up until the very end? Hydra marveled, feeling a pang of envy for that. My children, while within the womb, were not so kind—especially in the earlier days. You have never seen a she-wolf become so sick, she lamented, bringing a foreleg to her chest for added dramatic flare, grinning at her own expense. And in the later days, I was ravenous for fare that ought not go together. Fish-venison, simultaneously. Goose, groundhog, and moose liver—also all at once. And when I did not get it, I felt I could cry until there were no tears left, she recalled with a shake of her head and a laugh; Hydra did not cry, and to do so over something so absurd... well, pregnancy hormones were cruel that way. But she had no qualms in sharing such with the duo before her; they were family, and though Hydra knew Meerkat not at all, she plainly loved her and accepted her already.  There was nothing like that for you? She pondered aloud, wondering if Towhee perhaps was not aware of all that came with pregnancy... or if she truly had been so fortunate!