Rayne had holed up in her den after the meeting, eyes hollow, shivers overtaking her, her mind driving away all thought of any good. She was stuck here, carrying pups, in a land that would condemn her to a life of w h o r i n g. She was afraid and depressed. Not to mention her pups. They were kicking and making her uncomfortable.
Rayne curled into a tighter ball, her body trembling. A dark mood had overcome her. Rayne had only gotten up to get food outside of the den, and water, and even then her movements had felt robotic. She knew her pups were due soon, so she was even more depressed.
Pains in her stomach brought her to life. The pretty fem yelped and shot to her feet, teetering before collapsing. She whimpered before giving in to the pain.

fade in, fade out

Rayne stared down at her three pups. Her sons. Arvin and Radke, the oldest and youngest, were suckling; the middle boy, whom she hadn’t named yet, was napping. Odd. Wouldn’t he be hungry?
Rayne carefully shifted around. She smiled as Arvin made a noise, and tucked her nose between her paws. She was exhausted. Childbirth really took a lot out of a woman.
Rayne whispered to her children, Hello, boys, and dropped off to sleep.
Meanwhile, a winged boy, the one named Arvin, the eldest of the litter, shook out his wings, still nursing. A little bit of ice crusted the ground beneath him. It also froze over the wings of Radke, his brother. Arvin finished nursing and, satisfied, managed to drag himself-as his little, weak newborn legs couldn’t yet carry him-over to the mouth of the den.