Northstar Vale Steampunk dogfight.

His mention of last winter jarred Towhee. She often forgot how young he was but it was more than that. She felt like they’d been together always. She welcomed the fuzzy feeling it gave her, though there was always that small but sharp edge of fear. She’d gotten pretty good at ignoring it these days.

We all feel invincible when we’re young, don’t we? she mused in reply to his story. And then the real world hits… and hits… and hits.

Towhee briefly wondered about all her grown children who weren’t here, wondering if they’d found happiness or hardship. She wondered if she had more grandchildren out there, via Fig and the twins. Was Caracal still rambling or had he settled again? Sphyra was probably out there ruling her own version of Mereo.

She refocused her attention on the present conversation, as well as one they’d had not so long ago. Towhee had no desire or intentions to leave Epoch anytime soon, though she could absolutely picture herself establishing a pack with Maxim one day. Like the reminder of Maxim’s youth, she was a little surprised to find herself aching to rule again. She’d really thought those days were over.

But she’d thought she’d never be a mother again, not so long ago. And now Towhee looked forward to several more years of litters with her husband. Her husband! Still ignoring the voice of pessimism from the back of her mind, she let herself lean into the dream of making their own kingdom one day, surrounded by all their children. It was idyllic to the point of ridiculousness, possibly, but it was worth aspiring to, wasn’t it?

I’m so happy, she said, a little apropos of nothing, gazing around their new digs and then catching Maxim’s eye, that we ended up here, I mean. I never would’ve pictured most of this for myself, she continued, leaning forward to touch their muzzles together, but I have zero complaints.