Redtail Rise you will remember me, won't you

there's life growing within her.

she'd vomited up half a hare, the other day, and knew. barebones as winter is, she didn't waste food. and she'd stared at the steaming pile of vomit and knew.

more pups. more warriors.

and gods and nature help them if they aren't as useful as her current trio.

she bumps into Prophet, having just cleared her mouth in the stream from a recent bout of emesis. her tongue and gums are cool, still, and she runs them along his cheek, tail wagging with pleasure upon seeing him.

perhaps he'd ask the question—

but perhaps he knows, already, too.