Anabel was way overdue in her birthing. She estimated she was nearly two months overdue, in fact; she worried for the pups’ health. What if she hadn’t birthed them yet because there was something wrong with them? Had they died, and therefore Anabel’s body had made no move to expel them? But as soon as she thought that she waved it away, for she felt them moving every day - and besides, if they were dead and unremoved from her they would have begun rotting. Everything was okay. Perhaps they were just slow to develop?
And that posed its own worries, Anabel found, so she didn’t dwell anymore on the possibility. She instead focused on keeping herself healthy and on spending as much time possible with Shadow. She loved her mate, an extremely protective wolf. She kind of found it funny how anxious he was for her in her pregnancy. Then again, she was scared too.
The Tribrid girl was walking (more like waddling) back to her den in the unusually warm day, noting all the snowmelt occurring in this month of late winter, the air having been warming up. She suddenly buckled as she felt contractions ripple through her body. “Oh,” she breathed, eyes widening. The pups were coming. Finally. She tipped her head back to howl for Shadow. She tried to drag herself forward, but stopped once she realized she could hurt the pups by dragging herself. She just wanted to reach the den; there Anabel’s children would be safe, not only from opportunistic predators but from the brisk chill still lingering in the air, the touches of winter that hung all around them. She didn’t end up making it, though.

fade out, fade in

Three female pups nursed as Anabel gave a sigh of exhaustion. She studied her children - one seemingly bloodlineless daughter, a snow apollo Faerydae, and a Glasswing. The oldest one would likely be an Elemental. She turned to Shadow - if he be there - and murmured, “Do you have any ideas for what we could name them? I think we should call the youngest one Grazia.”

“So draw your knives, ladies, prepare for war. . . .”