Dragoncrest Cliffs silver grave

Njord spoke next, more plainly stating why they had brought this question to Mireille. Only now did it occur to Meerkat that this might be strange for her. She was relatively young and Njord’s child, to boot. But she was also the Obsidian, a title Meerkat respected without question.

At once, Mireille offered her support. Meerkat breathed in sharply, though she didn’t release it right away, letting the young woman finish. Would there be a “but” in there? Perhaps not in so many words, though the Obsidian didn’t shy away from addressing the elephants in the room. But she insisted any offspring Meerkat and Njord brought forth would have the pack’s love.

She appreciated the Obsidian’s optimism, yet Meerkat couldn’t help but think that Sobo certainly wouldn’t love those children. Erzulie and Rosalyn might accept them, begrudgingly. Chacal might receive them as warmly as her younger sister, though all of this still begged the question of resources.

That means a lot, Mireille, Meerkat said in a quiet voice, but that’s only one of two concerns I have. We have, she corrected herself, exchanging a glance with her husband. Would your mothers have another litter? Perhaps Jorunn as well? Chacal? You?

Her eyes softened at this last word. Mireille would make a lovely mother, if that’s what she wanted. And that was her right, of course. But if she and the other, higher-ranked women in the pack wanted children, where did that leave the likes of Meerkat and Njord?