Word Count » 351
Though the hybrid had not lived here long yet, she knew the territory intimately well, as she hoped her fellow packmates did. Even as busy as life had seemed to become, Eris had still the time to prowl the territories, learning its secret nooks and crannies as well as she could. There were no sprawling caves to become lost in here; everything was above-ground, so far as she could see. The deserted village was a favorite place for the coal hybrid to walk, but today she found herself along the northern coast, the salt spray of the ocean cool on the woman's face. Her mind worked tirelessly, as always, and today it considered her predicament. Desperate as she had been for children, they could not have come at a more precarious time. Salsola was just over a month since its inception. Her sable ears sat half-mast, and she wondered if their birth might strengthen their pack, or if it might bring about a far-premature end.
She had brought children into this world before, and she was aware of the drain on time and energy they were, precious resources they were. Eris herself would be laid up with them for at least two weeks, and perhaps more, if the end of her pregnancy proved trying. The coyote hybrid had known just a scant few days now, and it was perhaps it was that knowledge, certainty that she carried Larkspur's seed in her belly, that had driven her to seek out Ouija. She had told no one yet -- not Larkspur, not Ouija, not Sirius, and certainly not her other children. It was not a secret they sought further children, but the hybrid woman did think Larkspur deserved the knowledge before anyone else. He certainly deserved that much, at the least, and a strange guilt filled The Auxiliary as she saw his form moving up the coast, a hulking black shadow that seemed unmistakable in their ranks. Her yellow-green eyes followed his movement, and the Optime woman stepped toward him, her face strangely still for the news that would befall his ears momentarily.
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