Set at Shiloh Hills

Wc: 451

It hadn't taken the fae as long to recover from the birthing as her first litter had. Even though the newest trio brought more mouths to feed and a longer labor, Ghita had been ready and eager for her litter, and her joy was untampered by the hindering fear of miscarrying them. Now, of course, several weeks later all three of her new puppies were beginning to run around and about, causing her ebony mate and herself to have their paws full with their antics.

But Ghita wouldn't change it for the world. Even as happy as she was with her second induction into motherhood, her personality remained solid, and in that, she still needed to be active. Nay, she needed to be active in the same way that one needs to breathe. To feel the wind whipping through her fur was her water, her paws hitting the ground beneath her Ghita's oxygen. And to live up to her duties as her pack's main huntress was one of her main purposes.

The large, charcoal clouds that ran across the periwinkle sky hadn't yet unloaded their heavy burden of snow onto the land, but the huntress could feel in her bones that the snow would arrive soon. Remembering with fondness how her first litter of children had reacted to the white fluffy flakes, the mother was filled with anticipation for them to experience this too; her childrens' 'firsts' had always been a source of great joy for the fae. But for now, for this afternoon, Ghita felt that small pang of anxiety on either side of her chest for two vastly different reasons.

Ghita knew her infants would be fine with her mate - after all, all five of her children were turning out splendidly, but nothing compared to a mother's worry and anxiety over her children. To add to that, her children were only starting to be weaned off of her milk, which required an extra supply of meat to be successful. And that brought her to her second source of anxiety - her pack's herds.

One of her duties in Crimson Dreams was to keep track of the herds and prey that meandered through their surrounding territory, but the months of her pregnancy had confined her to a walking distance from the manor. Now bringing her Lupus body into a steady trot, her ebony nose pressed to the ground, the fae was following a small family of deer through the territory, not noticing that she had crossed over her pack's boundaries all the while. Only a mile or so away from them now, she focused her turquoise gaze out onto Shiloh hills, hoping to catch sight of them even from her own position. “.”