Lost Creek Hollow Bloated, Achey and Pis*Y

ashpaw's anger is a palpable thing; a shimmering rush of heat like a fortress 'round the den that ingram assumes is the birthing den.

but he does not fear it.

he's been the reason for it many and more times. the lash of it is familiar.

he slipped into the den, drawing nearer, struggling to find where to lay so that he is near but not crowding her. the den is large, made to fit mother, cubs and father alike.

she moves his paw over her swollen sides; and he recoils slightly when he feels the cubs within her womb move.

it's a strange thing to feel. to feel life when he is so intimately familiar with death. Osiris bless them, they feel strong. the patronsaint murmurs.