Hideaway Strath Of saying something wrong and never said I was a saint

Simmik was stricken with sorrow for her friend. She could easily imagine herself in that position, and she knew she would be devastated. I'm sorry, she said, touching her nose to Arlette's cheek if she would allow the comfort. Let me know if I can do anything to make you feel safe, she added, assuming the other mother would have many fears about history repeating itself. And this time, I'm happy you won't have to hide it. The pack will be excited for your litter, I'm sure. Probably more so than her own, which didn't really matter to Simmik. 

She was glad to hear that Arlette was doing well so far. It seemed she had already spoken to the Aerin about it, which was good. I'm glad you have Derg to help support you, she offered with a small smile. It was important to have help. She appreciated any help she had received so far. 

Her smile grew wider. Once all the children are old enough, we should introduce them. Maybe they could make friends. They would all be the next generation of Saints after all.