Hushed Willows I can feel the heartbeat underneath the concrete

She felt in her bones that it would be soon, so very soon. Already the snows had begun to melt; Reverie had hope that her children would be met with spring when they emerged from the den, as Blossom had. It was only fitting that they should.

Her doubts and her fears had largely settled, not in light of any new evidence but in remembering all that had led her to here and now. Had she not done this before? Alone, no less, and she'd lived to bear the scars of it. Had she not shouldered this pack and seen it thrive? Reverie knew each of her wolves and knew that they would follow her, perhaps not to the ends of the earth but at least into each new day. That was enough, for now.

She was enough.

And she was content as she lounged beside the Opal Lake, idly grooming herself. Though she did not yet know it, this would be the last time Reverie would be seen so far from her den for weeks to come. The clouds broke for a moment. She paused, closing her eyes to take in the fleeting feeling of sunlight against her fur. In the next moment they shifted again, and the warmth was gone.