Two wolf-dogs, both inexperienced at motherhood, both using words sounding a little out of the ordinary. Despite the horse, Caspa was slowly getting comfortable, though her bearing was as stiff and upright as ever her hands shifted loosely in her lap.
"Spanish," she repeated.
"Where do you come from - Span?" She was unaware of her ignorance showing; if she had been she would never have spoken, as it was she considered Span to be a pretty good guess for the home of a speaker of Span-ish.
Gruffness was brought on at the mention of puppies and the woman's eyes fixed on the ground. Caspa felt her heart sink; so this was an unwilling mother, and such a thing didn't bode well for anybody concerned. To not feel a sense of duty for the small ones you carried, to care so little for them, that was a serious thing in Caspa's eyes, but she didn't blame Krystalle, she was as much a victim as the pups. Krystalle had said she lived with her friend. Where, then was her mate? Maybe she had lost him, and this was part of the reason for her apathy towards her children. Caspa knew she must tread lightly here, thrown by the stranger's words. "You must care; at least until they are born and can care for themselves. You must ensure you have help in the meantime, too." There was an oddly commanding note in her voice. Caspa did not consider herself an expert in this matter, but she knew what she believed. She wasn't going to bring up the subject of the father, not yet. It could easily be a very raw topic indeed.
